


Salvaged

by brimstonegold, Ithiel_Dragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Original Character(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Sibling Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-06
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2018-10-04 16:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 304,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brimstonegold/pseuds/brimstonegold, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiel_Dragon/pseuds/Ithiel_Dragon
Summary: Fifteen years ago Mary and John Winchester were killed in a house fire, their sons Sam and Dean were both placed up for adoption.  Sam was adopted by the Colts as a baby.  Dean remained in the system, passed from foster home to foster home until he finally ran away and met a hunter named Bobby Singer, who took him in.  Years later Sam and Dean meet unexpectedly at the same school, but they don't know they're brothers.  After Sam is attacked by another student, Dean agrees to offer the other boy protection.  Sam agrees to make it worth his while.This work is incomplete and abandoned, it will never be completed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story uploaded by Ithiel Dragon. This was a roleplay story I was involved in several years ago on a forum called Devil's Gate. Ithiel Dragon played Dean Winchester, and some other characters. Brimstone Gold played Sam Winchester, and some other characters. I am posting this story in its entirety and unedited. The page breaks are where the author changed. Maybe one day I will go back and edit it into a more proper story format, but don't hold your breath. I'm mostly posting this story here so I don't lose it. I still think its a pretty good read the way it is, but it is still obviously a roleplay. You've been warned.

Samuel Colt climbed out of the older SAAB his dad drove and stared at the prep school before him, other young men like himself walking along the sidewalks toward the decorative doors. All the boys were dressed in identical uniforms, identical to the one he wore.  


  
He had tried to convince his father public school was fine, that he could just as easily get scholarships for college in a public school as a private prep school, but his father would have none of it. He wanted his boy to succeed and to succeed you had to know the right people. The right people, in his father's mind, were the rich people. The Colts weren't rich. Decently middle class but even with the money he had won at various science competitions, chess competitions, and debate competitions, the prep school was nearly out of their affordability range. They had tried to cut corners as they could. None of his uniforms were new, but they were by no means shabby. His mother had let out the hem to its maximum so the pants were just barely long enough. The jacket was high end, and after some minor mending, it looked just fine. He didn't have the high end shirts the other boys likely wore, but they were nice enough that unless someone really looked, no one would notice. He hoped. The tie was new and the tie tack gold. His shoes were almost new and he had polished them up. Looking at the backpacks the others carried, he wished he had gotten a new backpack. His wasn't bad, but it wasn't one of the fancy expensive ones and all of his textbooks were used.

His parents were both working overtime, just to make sure Sam would be able to finish out his last two years of high school at the exclusive place. He had liked his old school, liked the teachers, and while he wasn't terribly popular, had some friends there he knew he would miss. Hell, he was already missing the familiar faces as he strode up the sidewalk. He hated not knowing a soul, not knowing his way around, and generally being the 'new' kid always sucked. They hadn't moved often, but had five schools he had attended and always took a while to settle in and learn the ropes. He tried to assure himself this place would be no different. Within a few weeks, it would be old hat. His stomach and all the butterflies in it belied that.

He barely made homeroom before the bell sounded and the desks were pretty much all filled. He was stuck up front trying to fold his tall lanky frame into his seat, his knees pressed up against the bottom of the desk and still his feet stuck out.

The dark haired teacher with a pinched upturned nose, small glasses perched on the bridge of it, didn't bother with roll call since he knew all the students. He looked at Sam.

"And you are?" he sniffed in a nasal voice.

"Samuel Colt, sir," Sam said.

The teacher looked over some papers. "Oh, yes, the young Einstein. Winner of countless competitions. I've heard about you. You'll find our school quite a bit more difficult that the public schools you are long accustomed to."

"Yes sir. I would expect so sir," Sam answered politely but irritated the man brought up he wasn't the rich boy he was trying hard to emulate. That wasn't going to score him any points in the popularity department.

"In fact, I imagine you'll find yourself much further down the ladder, no longer the smartest boy in the school."

"With the reputation of this school, I would expect no less," Sam replied smoothly, giving the man the most genuine smile he could manage while groaning inside. He was really ready to just go ahead and get to his first class so he could lose himself in the lessons. The first day was always the hardest he told himself. It would get better as the day progressed. He hoped.

By third period everyone in the school seemed to know about him. They stared and whispered and snickered. Dammit, so he seemed to be the only one in class with used text books and his clothes weren't brand new off the shelf and his backpack wasn't designer, couldn't the snobs cut him some slack? Then again, if they weren't snobs, they probably would.

He was dreading lunch as he crossed the lawns. At least he didn't have to really look like a ppor boy and bring his lunch. His father insisted that wouldn't do and had shelled out the extra outrageous sums to allow him to eat in the lunchroom. It would be the place the kids talked, his father told him, a good place to culture the sorts of friendships his father wanted him to have. Well, at this point, he didn't think he had seen anyone he wanted to be friends with.

Caught up in his own thoughts, he was ill prepared to find himself all but encircled by a group of older boys.

* * *

Eric Lancaster had spotted him the second he’d arrived.

He and his friends had been standing on the steps leading up to the front gate that morning, just shooting the breeze, when the car had pulled up. The older model “family” car sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the limos or sports cars the other kids were being dropped off in. His friends had begun snickering and pointing even before the tall lanky brunet climbed out of the vehicle.

The younger boy stuck out even worse than a sore thumb despite all his obvious efforts to look like he belonged here. Hell, maybe even sticking out worse because of those efforts. Unfortunately, for him, it was obvious to anyone with eyes in their head that he didn’t belong here. Not even close. Even if his clothes weren’t obvious hand me downs and barely fit him and his home cut longish hair wasn’t falling into his eyes.

It was the way he carried himself. The shy, deer in the headlights, look in his eyes as he hurried past them into the school building with the other students. Eric smirked as his eyes followed the boy inside.

The boy wasn’t bad looking. A little on the skinny side, and tall, but not as tall as Eric, who was a senior and captain of the Varsity Basketball team. He had a nice face. Cute even. Sweet looking full lips, that would look even better wrapped around cock. Eric bet he had a nice tight little ass too.

It had been a while since they’d had any fresh meat to play with that was so appealing. His last boy toy had transferred out of the school about a month ago. Broke his leg in three places falling down the bleachers... pity that. He hadn’t had time yet to find another plaything to amuse himself with.

With a face like that though, Eric knew there would be quite a few who’d want a piece of that ass. Eric was determined to get there first though. Hell, maybe even after he’d broken him in, he could pass him around for a few extra bucks. As long as he got to watch, of course.

Once the boy was out of his sight, Eric turned back to his friends. Of course they were more than willing to go along with his plans as long as they got their share of the spoils.

***

In a school like this, word traveled as fast as wildfire, and before first period was over Eric had learned the boy’s name. Sam Colt. Cute. No one knew the Colt family, of course. He’d expected that, he’d known the boy didn’t come from money the second he laid eyes on him, but it never hurt to be sure. Apparently the kid was some kind of super nerd as well. Not that Eric really cared about any other skills the boy might possess that didn’t involve him on his knees, but it was always nice to have a boy toy that could also write his English papers or do his Math homework for him.

They caught up with him outside while everyone else was heading into the building for lunch. It was really so easy Eric almost had to laugh. His friends coming up to the boy from behind, as Eric approached him from the front. Walking right into the younger boy and knocking the used books from his hands.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going.” Eric snapped, even though it was obviously his fault and he’d done it on purpose. He just wanted to see how the boy would react. 

* * *

He had done his his homework, though in some cases he only knew names, not faces. For all the team sports he knew the faces of the players. Men liked to talk sports and if he could talk sports with his class mates, praising them for past victories, it would give him an edge his father said. Sam honestly had not been bothering to try to identify those said players, more worried about getting to places on time, learning teachers' names, and memorizing any kid's name he caught in passing conversation. After homeroom he had managed to get seated further back in the classes so he could watch and learn names and check out apparent skills and inter-relationships, without being obvious about it.

He stumbled back when the tall senior bumped into him and his books dropped to the ground in scattered disarray. Blonde, muscular, blue eyes, handsome and on the basketball varsity team, it was Eric Lancaster. The Lancasters had so much money Sam was surprised hundred dollar bills weren't sticking out of every pocket. His father was CEO of an investment firm, his mother had once been a model and now had her own line of clothing and perfume. Eric was the oldest, having a younger sister apparently as pretty as her mother and she had already won modeling competitions and scored a couple commercials and was the face for some line of kids clothes for the rich and famous. Eric was also, obviously, a potential bully. Sam's father would be beyond delighted if Sam could score a friendship with the senior. His mind flashed through options of response. Being a super geek, he had dealt with his share of bullies. Had his clocked cleaned a couple times, too, but at the same time standing up to them had earned him the respect of other classmates. First day though, he was just being tested. Was the new kid predator or prey, easy pickings or someone Lancaster might decide was cool enough to be friends with?

"My fault," Sam said, not leaning down and being classified as frightened prey gathering his books. People first, things later. First rule of the survival of geekdom. "Still getting my bearings. Hey, aren't you Eric Lancaster? Led the basketball team to the state championship last year. I hear that scouts are going to be watching you this year, if they haven't already offered you deals." He waited and watched, keeping his eyes friendly, smiling at the senior, hating that his dimples were probably plain as day. With any luck the oaf would grunt his displeasure and walk on. Sam had neither backed down nor pushed back. He did not want to get marked as prey by someone like Lancaster. He had little doubt Lancaster held power in this school and could make his life hell, as if being thrust into the middle of kids way out of his social standing wasn't going to be hell enough. If he could nail a friendship with the senior, it would surely make his life easier and he was all for easier when it came to social situations. Hell, maybe he had impressed the guy and maybe Lancaster was going to decide he was all right.

* * *

Eric couldn’t help but smirk in amusement at the younger boy’s reply, though he was a little surprised that the other boy already knew who he was. Well, that was good. No sense in beating around the bush then.

“That’s right. And you’re Sam Colt.” He stated simply.

A nobody. He didn’t say that it, but then again, it didn’t need to be said. They all knew that.

Still Eric allowed his gaze to travel appreciatively from the younger boy’s face all the way down his body. Damn, he looked even better up close. Those eyes… and fucking dimples to boot. He looked so damned sweet and innocent, even though he had to be at least sixteen. Eric wondered if the younger boy really _was_ as innocent as he looked. That would be fucking awesome. He just loved shoving his huge dick up a sweet little virgin’s ass for the first time. Nothing better in the world.

Eric smiled at the younger boy. All charm, for now.

“So, heading to lunch? You’re not going to eat in there are you?” He asked, nodding over his shoulder to the building where the cafeteria was. The grounds mostly empty now that most of the other students had already gone inside or to their cars to spend the lunch period off campus.

“The food here is crap. There’s a place off campus a couple miles down the road where a lot of us hang out during lunch. Want to come with us?” 

* * *

The way the senior eyed him made him feel a little self conscious. He ran in the mornings, and did a little light weight lifting, but he had recently gained some height and he swore what muscle he had built up had been eaten away by his growth spurt. If the guy was checking him out to see if he was an athlete, well, it was pretty apparent he wasn't. He could handle himself in baseball and such, though he really wasn't that good at basketball. His preferred sport was soccer. They had a soccer team and he thought he might see if he could try out for it. He doubted he would make varsity, but he might be able to make second string.

He tried to hide his delight at the young man's offer. His dad would be really pleased. Now he just had to be careful not to screw this up. Maybe the guy was an all right guy after all, and apparently Sam's response to his bullying was the right one. Unless of course they took him there and left him. He had to take the chance he wasn't being jerked around. "I'd planned to eat there. I didn't know we were allowed off campus for lunch. What school food doesn't suck? Yeah, that would be great. Let me get my books picked up. Can I ride with one of you?"

* * *

Seeing the younger boy’s eyes practically light up at his offer, Eric laughed. Though Sam probably thought he was laughing at the younger boy’s comment about the school’s food. This was really going to be too easy, which was a good thing because he really couldn’t wait to get into Sam’s pants…

But he would be patient. This kind of thing couldn’t be rushed after all. He didn’t want Sam to panic or something and run blabbing his mouth to someone. Not that they would believe the younger boy, but it was certainly an inconvenience he didn’t need.

So he’d give Sam a few days, or even a few weeks, to start to feel comfortable with him. Keep the younger boy close to him. Show Sam what it could be like if he was “friends” with someone like him. Once he felt that Sam was ready, he’d make his move. By then not only would Sam think that _he_ was the one who’d led _him_ on, but he’d be too worried about losing his newfound position on the social ladder to say no.

And if he did say no? Well, he’d learn pretty damned quick just how much of a hell Eric could make his life.

“Usually only the seniors are allowed off campus, but don’t worry about that. Just stick with us, Sammy. We’ll show you the ropes.” Eric replied, grinning. Waiting for the younger boy to finish picking up his things, and introducing his friends Cody and Adam to Sam, they all started for the parking lot. While they walked, Eric asked Sam about himself, and threw a friendly arm around his shoulders.

“You can ride with me.” He told the younger boy as he led Sam to the red Ferrari convertible sitting in one of the front parking spaces.

* * *

Over the next few weeks Sam couldn't believe his good fortune. With Eric as his friend, the other students treated him well, though he didn't understand the occasional odd looks he got. It didn't matter. Both his parents were ecstatic that Sam had managed to gain the friendship of the son of one of the most influential families.

Eric didn't ask him to help with his homework, so Sam knew Eric hadn't befriended him to use him like that. Sometimes Adam needed a little help with his physics and Sam was pleased to be able to offer aid. All three of the young men were obviously smart and honestly, Sam found it refreshing to be able to talk with others at his own level. Eric even got him a new backpack. Sam was a little reluctant to take it at first, but at Eric's insistence, he did. Sam's dad declared Sam simply couldn't be seen with a high profile young man like Eric in less than new clothing and he got two new sets. His dad also promised that Sam would get new books as soon as they could afford it. Sam didn't really care, but appearances were everything.

Eric always bought him lunch which was good since they ate a place that Sam wouldn't have been able to afford five days a week. Maybe his father had been right, this school was really turning out to be great. As an added bonus the classes were challenging for a change. With Eric marking him as being with the popular crowd, he suspected come next year, even though Eric would be gone, he would do all right.

* * *

Eric was waiting for Sam out next to his car so he could drive the younger boy home. The last few weeks had gone just as he had planned. He’d spent a lot of time and effort on Sam. Making sure to always have the younger boy at his side when he could, chatting and touching him, though never in more than a friendly fashion. Picking him up in his car in the morning and bringing him home in the afternoon. Taking him off campus at a variety of restaurants for lunch, and always paying for the younger boy’s meals. Even inviting Sam to come to watch his games, and hanging out with him after school whenever he could.

Not only did everyone in the school know that he had staked a claim to Samuel Colt and no one else had so much as dared to speak with the younger boy. But he’d spent so much time and money on Sam that the younger boy surely felt more than indebted to him. Today, Eric planned to make his move as he drove the younger boy home. He’d been patient, but now he was tired of waiting.

Sam had better not keep him waiting today.

Eric frowned and turned his head to look over his shoulder when he heard the song “Highway to Hell” suddenly blaring loudly through the parking lot. He scowled harder as the jet black 67 Impala roared to life and peeled out a parking spot a few rows down.

So, the freak was back. He’d been gone for so long, the last couple of weeks at least, everyone was sure he’d finally been expelled from the school, but apparently not. How the hell Dean Winchester had ever ended up in this school no one knew. He was an even bigger loser than Sam Colt, and without any of the benefits. One day he was going to make that freak pay big time for what he’d done…

Sensing that he wasn’t alone anymore, Eric wiped the scowl off his face as he turned to Sam, replacing it with a smile. “About time you showed up. Biology teacher giving you extra homework again?”

* * *

Sam was hoping the long winded biology teacher would shut up already. He had been to enough science competitions he knew good and well what he had to do, what paperwork he had to get signed, by whom, and where to send it all. All his 'yes sir' and 'thank you Mr. Conners' just seemed to encourage the man. Sam finally blurted out, "Eric's waiting for me to take me home, I need to go."

Mr. Conners closed his mouth abruptly. "Oh, I hadn't realized," he finally said. His gaze drifted up and down the young man. So this was newest conquests of the Lancaster boy. He really shouldn't be surprised. The young man was reasonably handsome and much the type Eric pursued. Eric liked them tall and thin and innocent. Though the boy probably was anything but innocent and was probably using Eric for social climbing. It certainly explained how a young man of rather modest upbringing was fitting in so well so quickly and avoiding the hazing any typical middle class student would receive. The only 'poor' student that hadn't been chased off was the Winchester boy, not that the students hadn't tried initially. Until that one…event…. The only reason Winchester hadn't been expelled was because Mr. Chalmers, the head of the school board and principal of the school, had made it quite clear that the boy could and would attend the school. The young man was certainly bright enough but really, he lived at a junk yard. It was a stain on the fine history of the school to have such white trash in attendance. And that abomination of a car sitting in the parking lot, like a festering pus filled sore in the middle of lily white perfect skin.

"Off you go, then, and get that paperwork back to me by the end of the week," Mr. Conners told him. If Sam Colt didn't have such a beautiful mind he wouldn't even be aiding him. At least the boy had gotten some proper new clothes and was beginning to look a bit more like he was worthy of the school.

Sam hurried out of the front doors of the school and saw Eric. He grinned and picked up his pace. Eric was so cool, not complaining about waiting on him, doing everything for him that he had. In just these few short weeks Eric had done so much for Sam. Sam swore he knew the names of most the kids in the school at this point and honestly Eric was kind of spoiling him, showing him what the lives of the rich and famous were like. He would have the same sort of money someday. Yeah, he would always be 'new money,' but it didn't matter.

The sudden roar of the muscle car drew his attention. He had noticed the black car earlier in the day as a new addition to the parking lot but hadn't thought much about it other than it didn't look like it belonged there anymore than his father's old SAAB would. He had seen a new face, now that he thought about it, but the young man hadn't been introduced in the couple classes they were in together. He remembered seeing other students veer away from the tall muscular senior, almost as if in fear and no one had spoken to him. He sat silently in the back of the class, one black notebook and a blue pen the only thing he carried. The loud rock music blaring from the black car's speakers seemed so…gauche.

The tires spun, burning rubber onto pavement as the senior gun the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. How tacky was that? He shook his head and turned back to the sleek red Ferrari.

"Hi. Sorry Eric, no, Mr. Conners was giving me all the paperwork for the upcoming science competition. God that man can talk. He acted like I'd never filled out a competition form before in my life, like I was third grader or something." He climbed into the car, carefully putting his backpack behind the seat. He was always careful both with the new backpack and inside Eric's car. He wasn't an aficionado of cars by any means, but he never wanted Eric to think he was disrespectful to the beautiful car or the fine backpack.

"You said you wanted to show me something today? I told my parents I didn't know when I'd be getting in. So where are we going?"

* * *

“It’s a surprise.” Eric answered Sam’s question cryptically, smiling charmingly at the younger boy in a way to instantly put him at ease.

Not that Sam needed to be put at ease. The younger boy trusted him completely at this point, as evident by what Sam had told his parents. He’d met Sam’s parents once when he’d dropped the younger boy off at his home after a game. Sam’s father had eagerly invited him inside for a drink, even though he was under age. Eric had refused the drink politely, of course. Not that he didn’t drink liquor, of course he did, but it wouldn’t do to ruin his nice and “responsible” image in front of the younger boy’s parents.

The Colts were obviously ecstatic that he had befriended their son. He’d met their type before. Willing to do just about anything to climb up the social ladder. Hell, they’d probably still be ecstatic even if they knew his _real_ intentions towards their son. Sam’s father had practically shook his arm off as he was leaving when he invited their whole family to his father’s party at their home next week.

If they weren’t expecting Sam home any time soon, that even better for him.

Eric got in the car and put the top down, it was a nice day after all. He drove them past the edge of town, and finally pulled off on an old dirt road. On either side the grass grew so tall it would have been up to his waist if he got out of the car. At the end of the road there was the old burnt remains of a church. A huge willow tree grew next to it, practically overtaking the skeletal remains. It was so quiet you couldn’t even hear the sound of cars passing by on the main road, only the crickets and cicadas, or the occasional bird breaking the silence.

They were literally in the middle of nowhere.

Eric turned off the car and looked at Sam appraisingly. He could almost read the younger boy’s thoughts just from his expression, wondering why Eric had brought him way out here. Eric smiled at the younger boy as he asked almost nonchalantly.

“Are you a virgin, Sammy?”

* * *

Sam was thoroughly enjoying the ride. He liked to get out of the city occasionally but rarely got that chance. His parents weren't exactly nature buffs. He watched the busy streets give way to country roads. It seemed like they drove forever. He was curious what Eric was taking him to see but he didn't ask. It didn't matter. If Eric wanted to keep it a surprise, that was fine. Admittedly as the miles passed he was getting more and more curious. He honestly wasn't really sure where they were at this point. They had passed a main road a while back but he hadn't bothered to look to see what State Route it was. Eric obviously knew where he was going. Maybe Eric's family had some big old home out in the country. Maybe horses even. He had never been horseback riding, but always thought it might be fun. Maybe they were going to some small town with a small little diner that made some of the best fill-in-the-blank in the state.

It was such a beautiful day he let his mind wander, ticking through possibilities, some on the more ludicrous side, but it was fun to imagine. Eric had really opened his eyes to the way rich people lived. It was so different than his life in so many ways. It seemed as if they could simply do what they wanted when they wanted to. Maybe some day he would be so rich.

He straightened when they pulled onto the dirt road. The huge tree was magnificent. He wondered if maybe the old church had a cemetery, maybe a family cemetery where the first Lancasters were buried. He liked that sort of history and that only reinforced the idea that maybe Eric's family did have a house out here somewhere.

Sam turned to Eric when he shut the car off, waiting to see what the next step was. Checking out the church? Finding the cemetery? Just enjoying the view?

Eric's question caught him completely off guard. Was Eric going to, well, maybe get him a girl? Take him to a bar or something? He licked his lips. Normally he would lie, heck, what guy wouldn't? But he could see Eric being the kind of guy who would fix that for him. Maybe some girls were going to meet them there. That would be damned awesome.

"Uh, yeah," he felt himself blush a little. "Some, you know, petting, making out and stuff, but never actually done the deed. Are…are some girls going to meet us here?" Sam asked kind of hopefully. If there were girls coming, he had no doubt they would be babes.

 

* * *

Sam’s reply didn’t surprise him in the least. He’d guessed it the first time he’d laid eyes on the younger boy after all. But the confirmation and the cute little blush that stained the younger boy’s cheeks had Eric’s dick starting to get hard in his pants right there. Damned, he was just too cute. He was going to enjoy this. He was going to enjoy it a lot.

“Girls?” The older boy laughed a little at the question. Draping his arm over the back of Sam’s seat he let his fingers play boldly through the soft hair at the nape of the younger boy’s neck. He liked Sam’s hair. It was just long enough to give him something to hold onto when the younger boy went down on his cock. He used his other hand to unbuckle his seat belt.

“You don’t need to have girls to have sex, Sammy.” Eric replied, a predatory look settling over his features as he looked into Sam’s surprised eyes. He didn’t wait for Sam to reply, or even for him to really process what he’d said… or what it implied, before he cupped the back of the younger boy’s neck in a firm grip and tugged him closer. Crushing Sam’s lips with his own. 

* * *

Sam was definitely confused. He felt Eric's fingers tickle the back of his neck. Eric was a touchy feely type guy, always doing things like draping his arm over Sam's shoulder, touching his arm to get his attention, slapping his thigh when they were getting up to leave from somewhere. But this, this was different. This sent a rippling chill right down his spine.

Didn't have to have girls? What? Of course you needed girls. Or your own hand to beat off while looking at a playboy pin up. He saw the gleam in the senior's eyes and was still trying to piece Eric's words together when Eric's mouth was on his. Eric's strong hand on his neck held him firm and he felt Eric's tongue force its way into his mouth. He made noises of shock and complaint. He didn't have any interest in guys. For all the comments Eric had made over the past few weeks, he wouldn't have imagined Eric was gay. But Sam wasn't, dammit. He tried to push Eric away so he could tell him that. Guys just weren't his thing. At all.

* * *

When Sam’s lips parted, obviously in shock rather than in invitation, Eric didn’t care. Pushing his tongue past those sweet lips to explore every inch of Sam’s mouth whether the younger boy wanted him to or not. Ignoring the sounds of protest rather than pleasure that came from Sam and when the younger boy tried to pull away from him, he merely gripped the back of Sam’s neck harder. Practically hard enough to bruise, to keep him there.

He didn’t care whether Sam wanted this or not. He wanted it, wanted him, and he was going to have him. One way or another. While it would have certainly been easier on the younger boy if he just gave it up without a fight, Eric certainly wasn’t above taking what he wanted. He’d done it plenty of times in the past. He always got what he wanted. Always.

Using Sam’s shock to his advantage, his other hand quickly unbuckled Sam’s seatbelt to give him better access. Unbuttoning the younger boy’s pants and shoving his hand down the front without really giving Sam a chance to process what he was doing. Though when the younger boy’s struggles grew even more intense, and he thought that Sam might actually dare to bite him to stop the kiss, Eric finally broke it himself.

Letting go of Sam’s hair and pulling back he backhanded the younger boy hard enough that Sam was probably seeing stars, though Eric didn’t take his hand out of the younger boy’s pants. Cupping the younger boy’s dick hard through his underwear in warning, as though the slap wasn’t warning enough.

“You think you can tease me for weeks and then not put out? I thought you knew how things worked, Sammy. I thought you were smart.” Eric said as he forced Sam’s face towards his again, and he smirked a little seeing the cut on the younger boy’s lip dripping blood down his chin. His ring must have caught it when he slapped the younger boy. Not that he cared. 

* * *

The senior's grip was steel and his body immovable as he tried to shove Eric away. Breaking the kiss was equally impossible with the hand behind his head, fingers digging in and surely bruising him. Eric's tongue was everywhere in his mouth and he honestly didn't know what to do, unable to break away. There had to be a misunderstanding here. Eric was his best friend at the school. Eric looked out for him, had his back.

But now he had his front, as in Eric's hand was suddenly down the front of his pants and grasping at his dick through his undershorts. What the hell? This wasn't happening. This just wasn't fucking happening. Sam fought harder to get away. He could talk this out with Eric, clear things up. This was not what he had in mind when he wanted to lose his virginity.

When he couldn't break Eric's hold his jaw tightened ready to bite Eric, get him out of his mouth so they could fucking talk. Eric finally ended the kiss and Sam panting to catch his breath was about to ask Eric what the fuck he thought he was doing, get his hand off Sam's dick when Eric backhanded him so hard his ears rang and disorientation took over for a moment as his vision swam. The painful grasp on his cock made him inhale sharply and instinct took over making him freeze as he gasp in pain.

Sam felt liquid dribble onto his chin, his lip stung, and the side of his face was tight. He still couldn't believe Eric had hit him.

"I wasn't, I didn't mean to lead you on," Sam protested. "I-I thought you liked girls. I didn't know you thought I wanted—" the hard look in Eric's eyes scared him. He licked his lips, tasting his own blood, realizing now why they were out in the country. He had no place to run, and no one would hear him if he called for help. Hell, he was miles from anywhere and couldn't even recall seeing any farmhouses recently, not that he had been looking for any. "Eric, please, this is all just a misunderstanding. I'm not gay. I'm not interested in guys, just girls. You're my best friend, you've looked out for me, done things for me no one else ever has. But I can't do this." The look on Eric's face told him Eric didn't care. He started to reach back for the door handle to get out and his other hand moved to dislodge Eric's from his grip on his cock. He might be miles from anywhere, but being out in the middle of nowhere was better than what he feared Eric wanted from him.

 

* * *

Eric’s eyes followed the path of Sam’s tongue as it darted out to taste his lips and he got that much harder at the sight. The fear and confusion in the younger boy’s was exhilarating. He wondered if Sam was going to start crying soon. Eric liked it when they cried and begged like pathetic little girls. Sometimes he would even switch tactics for fun. Wiping away the tears, cooing comforting nonsense to calm down the idiotic blubbering, right before he shoved his dick so far up their little virgin asses they screamed.

The older boy laughed in genuine amusement when Sam said this was all a “misunderstanding”. That he hadn’t meant to “lead him on”. Calling him his “friend” and of all the things Eric had done for him. So fucking naive. But of course he couldn’t say that. He needed Sam to keep thinking that he’d asked for this, that it was his fault it was happening in the first place. Still he couldn’t resist one little jab.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you nothing is free in this world, Sammy?” Eric asked, laughing again as the younger boy started struggling ineffectively against him. However when he saw Sam go for the door, his expression turned dark once more. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

He was grabbed Sam’s wrist hard, twisting the younger boy’s arm behind his back, and shoving him against the door. Sam really wasn’t all that small for his age, but somehow his wrist and the bones underneath still felt as thin and fragile as a birds in his grip. Like if he tightened and twisted just so they would break. Eric tightened his grip and twisted hard, though not hard enough to break the younger boy’s wrist… yet… but if Sam pissed him off…

“You better be smart here, Sammy. I like it when virgins play a little hard to get, but you don’t want to piss me off.”

* * *

Eric was fast as well as strong and before Sam could get the door open he had grabbed his wrist. Eric was leaning across the gear shift but it was obvious he had done this before as he twisted Sam's arm behind him and all but slammed him against the door. Sam gasped in pain.

Nothing for free. Yeah, he should have known it was too damned good to be true. Why would the captain of the basketball team, one who had enough brains to be able to do his own homework, and was rich enough to probably buy the Eiffel Tower, want to befriend a poor geek like him? Jeremy, his friend from his old high school always told him he was naïve. He would have to call Jeremy and tell him he was right.

He still tried to struggle to break free but that only earned him more pain and Eric wasn't far off from breaking his arm. He had no doubt the senior would do it.

"All right," Sam snarled. "All right," he said calmer. "You want me?" Eric's face was close enough he leaned forward and crushed his lips against Eric's, shoving his tongue inside the other man's mouth, groaning before he finally pulled back. "Then you can have me. But I'm not free either. I'll be your bitch. But I expect nothing to change. Lunches at fancy places. My parents get to come to your family's parties." His eyes shone with defiance. He grabbed hold of the wrist that was shoved down his pants. "If you're going to feel me up, then do it right." He tugged Eric's hand up and out of his pants and slid it under his undershorts and gave a small shuddering moan at the senior's touch as he guided Eric's hand back and forth across his dick, half closing his eyes as if he was enjoying the feel.

When he opened his eyes, he raked his gaze down Eric's body. "You wanna fuck me?" Sam whispered. "Then you do it right. I'll be the best god-damned fuck of your life, but you gotta treat me right. No more hitting. And not in this car." He paused a little and swallowed, his cheeks flushing, "But I've never given a blow job. You're going to have to…teach me how to do that right. You're going to have to teach me a lot. You keep being my sugar daddy and I'll be your whoring bitch for the rest of the year. I'll be so good you'll miss me when you go to college. Of course, in two years, you're going to make sure I get into the right college. I want to be a lawyer. I'm sure you can help grease some palms to make scholarships a little easier to get." He reached between Eric's legs and palmed him, feeling the solid erection already there. "So what do you want? You want me to scream? You want me to fight? That make you hot? You want me to seduce you? You want me to beg? Tell me what you want you want most."

Sam hoped to hell Eric was buying it. He couldn't deny Eric's hand on his cock was getting him a little hard. He hated to think what he might have to do before he made his move, but he would do what he had to to get away from this sadistic rapist bastard and it was obvious that he was going to have to use guile to do it. Eric was fast and he was strong. Sam was going to have to be sneaky and fight dirty.

* * *

It wasn’t often that Eric was taken by surprise, but when the younger boy suddenly crushed his mouth against his in a sloppy kiss, he couldn’t deny he froze for a few seconds as his upstairs brain tried to process this unexpected turn of events. His lower brain however was having no difficulty with the situation. His dick hardening it seemed with every word Sam spoke until he was practically throbbing painfully inside of his shorts even before the younger boy shoved his hand into his underwear. A groan escaped his lips as well as he curled his fingers around Sam’s flaccid shaft, though it wasn’t flaccid for very long. He could feel the younger boy getting harder as he stroked him.

Eric licked his lips hungrily. Now they were talking. He smirked down at the younger boy as Sam offered to give him everything he wanted and more. For a price, of course, but Eric had expected no less. Everyone had a price. He just hadn’t expected Sam’s to come so cheaply.

“I knew you were smart.” Eric praised as he relaxed his hold on the younger boy’s wrist. Groaning again when he felt Sam touching him so boldly, making him even harder even through the layers of clothes he was wearing. His fingers of his free hand once more found their way into Sam’s hair, gripping tightly, but a little more gently than the first time now that he knew that the younger boy wasn’t going to fight him.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going to teach you plenty. First thing I’m going to teach you is how to put that pretty mouth of yours to much better use.” He said before pulling Sam back into a kiss and practically fucking the younger boy’s mouth with his tongue. Running his hand up and down Sam’s dick and letting his thumb play teasingly around the crown as he twisted his hand with every upstroke. Reluctantly he let go of Sam’s cock and pulled his hand out of the younger boy’s pants, but only so he could undo his own and get his dick out. Flushed red and already dripping precome with excitement.

He broke the kiss, taking a moment to admire Sam’s swollen red lips, before he started to push the younger boy’s head towards his lap. 

* * *

Wincing a little at the way Eric's hand wrapped his fingers in his hair, Sam jerked his head away for a moment then pressed his head back into Eric's hand.

"Not so rough," Sam scolded.

Sam couldn't help but react to Eric's expert work on his cock, but the way Eric was tongue fucking him almost made him want to hurl. The little twist Eric gave his stiffening dick made it that much easier to moan into the young man's mouth. Sam was relieved when Eric's hand finally left his shaft. He'd take blue balls to coming in that bastard's hand any day of the week.

It was an effort not to just rip away from Eric when Eric pulled out his dripping, disgusting cock. When Eric pushed his head toward it, Sam resisted, batting at Eric's hold. "I'm not going to try to give my first blow job leaning over the fucking gear shift. I'd probably break my ribs on it or something and bash my head into the steering wheel. Let me come around to the other side."

He waited for Eric to relent his hold, but held his ground. When Eric finally did, he zipped up and buttoned his pants and got out of the car. His mind raced as he made his plans and felt his heart pound in his chest. He walked around and opened Eric's door and got down on his knees. Grabbing hold of Eric's leg, he motioned for Eric to turn toward him, to put both feet on either side of him. He looked up into the older man's face as he finished unzipping his pants. He slid his hands down the back of Eric's jeans, squeezing his ass, then started to slowly pull down his pants. He leaned over, biting his lip and steeling himself for what he had to do then licked the dripping tip of Eric's cock.

"That tastes…" so fucking god awful I'm going to puke "…good," he said, putting surprise and awe into his voice.

 

* * *

Eric frowned at all the younger boy’s demands. He was going to have to break the little fuck out of that habit really soon, but for now he’d let Sam get away with it. As long as the younger boy ultimately did what he wanted right now, he didn’t care too much. He’d have plenty of time to train Sam how to be the bitch he really wanted him to be.

So he let go of Sam’s head, though he watched the younger boy like a hawk as Sam got out of the car and came around the other side. If Sam tried to make a run for it, he was going to make the younger boy wish Eric had stopped with just breaking a rib.

But Sam didn’t try to run and Eric watched with undisguised lust as the younger boy went down on his knees on the ground outside his door. Smirking as he let Sam get his pants down and position him the way he wanted.

The first tentative swipe of Sam’s tongue over the head of his cock pulled an obscene groan from his throat and his fingers once more found their way into Sam’s hair.

“Knew you were a cock whore the second I laid eyes on you.” Eric replied with a smirk, trying to push Sam’s head back down to his dick where it belonged. Wanting to feel that sweet hot mouth wrapped around his dripping cock, sucking him off, swallowing his load... “A lot more where that came from, you little slut. Get to it.” 

* * *

Sam pulled back a little and batted Eric's hands away. "You're too anxious. Let me learn my own way. Let me play." He leaned down and sucked on the tip of Eric's cock, tonguing open his slit and trying not to choke. He licked up Eric's cock next. "When I get good at this, you can wrap your fingers in my hair all you want. Please, let me try this my way first. You don't like it, if I don't do good, then you can show me your way."

He went back down on Eric's cock pulling the crown into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He had apparently succeeded in convincing Eric not to hold his head in place. Good. Now he had to work Eric up to the right point, as disgusting as that was going to be. But Eric was right. He was smart.

He worked slowly on the older boy, wrapping his tongue around the rock hard shaft, pulling in the crown and sucking on it, listening with disgust as Eric moaned and filth spilled out of his mouth, telling Sam what a good slut he was. Finally he Eric where he wanted him. Eric was already beginning to give small thrusts into his mouth and soon he knew Eric's hands would be back on his head, holding him there as he fucked his mouth. After his mouth, he had little doubt he would soon have Eric's dick up his ass and that just wasn't going to happen.

He pushed himself to his feet but kept working on the man's cock. He pulled off long enough to mutter. "Had enough of that damned door open alert."

He reached across and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He made it sound like he dropped them on the floor thought he kept hold of them, as he suddenly went down fully on Eric to distract him. The sound Eric made, the needy groan, pleased him. Eric was going to be hurting in more than one way.

He pulled off, sucking hard, then straightened. Stepping back, he grabbed the heavy car door and slammed it as hard on Eric's legs as he possibly could and then took off at a dead run for the burned out remains of the church and into the high grass beyond, grimly pleased by the sounds of pain-filled cursing coming from Eric. He hoped he'd broken the bastard's leg. Once he was deep into the field he lobbed the keys to the car out into the field then he bent over so he couldn't easily be seen. Woods weren't far off and he knew once he made it there, he was home free. Out in the middle of fucking nowhere, but that was a helluva lot better than the alternative.  


* * *

Eric scowled again as Sam batted his hands away, but when the younger boy started licking and sucking on his cock like a good little whore, he didn’t care. Sam was sloppy and unpracticed, but that didn’t really matter. The younger boy was making up for lack of experience with his enthusiasm.

“That’s right. Fuck, suck me down deeper you little slut.” Eric moaned, lifting his hips to force his dick deeper into Sam’s hot mouth when those lips finally wrapped around him and took him inside. Jesus fuck, but the little bitch was going to be a great fuck once he got Sam all broken in and trained.

When the younger boy’s mouth suddenly left his cock, Eric cursed and glared at Sam. If Sam’s hand didn’t keep working on his dick at least, he would have been a lot more pissed off. Alright, so it was a little annoying. So he didn’t stop Sam from taking the keys out of the ignition and since the younger boy went right back down on his cock when he was through, he didn’t think any more of it. Instead groaning and bucking in pleasure into the little sluts sweet mouth.

“Fuck yeah… yeah… take it all…”

When Sam pulled off his dick again his groan of complaint quickly changed to a scream of pain when the door slammed against his legs. It hurt so bad for a moment all he could see what white behind his eyes.

“You mother fucking cock slut! I’m going to kill you!” Eric cursed, enraged and in pain, and when he forced his tearing eyes open he saw Sam’s back disappearing into the tall grass. His anger made him push through the pain as he forced the door back open. It didn’t look like Sam had broken anything, but one of his legs were bleeding badly.

Eric stumbled to his feet, yanking up his pants and cursing again in pain as he tried to limp after the younger boy as fast as he could. He was going to kill that little bastard. He was going to beat him to within an inch of his life, fuck him raw and bloody, and then leave his sorry ass out here for the crows to peck at in the morning.

But the grass was too fucking long. He couldn’t see a damned thing. Eric searched for almost an hour but there was no sign of the younger boy anywhere and his leg was throbbing so bad he could barely walk. At least he had a spare set of keys in his glove box, but that didn’t do anything to cool his murderous rage.

“The next time I see you, you little fucker, I’m going to make you wish you were never born! Do you hear me?!” Eric yelled at the top of his lungs, he didn’t know if Sam was even still around, but he didn’t really care anymore as he limped back towards his car. Cursing and muttering and promising all kinds of retribution for this. He smiled in some measure of satisfaction at that. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know where to find Sam eventually… and he planned to make fully good on every promise he made. 

* * *

Sam didn't stop running until his lungs were pumping like bellows and his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it had bruised the inside of his chest. He finally slowed to a walk, his legs burning with the exertion. He had probably run three miles through woods and fields but at the fastest pace he could manage. He was cut up and scratched from branches and brambles and had ended up on his hands and knees a few times. The right knee of his pant's leg was ripped and he could feel, now that the adrenaline was fading, that he'd scraped his knee up pretty good. His palms stung, equally scraped up and he plucked twigs from his mop of hair. He was used to jogging a couple miles in the morning, but the full out run was definitely something he was not used to. He didn't make a three minute mile by any means with all the obstacles, but still it was probably only ten or fifteen minutes since he had escaped the lecherous fucker. He stopped finally and listened for the sound of cars. He thought he heard some off to his left and headed that way at a fast walk, still gasping for air.

Hesitating as he approached the road, he wondered if Eric would be trolling the roads looking for him or if he had called for reinforcements. They were probably an hour outside of town and it had only been a half hour. Eric probably hadn't even gotten his car started yet. Feeling a little better at that thought, he approached the road. He would try to hitch a ride. Eventually Eric would surely be on the road back into town, but Sam figured he had a good half hour at the least, but it would probably be more like three or four before he had to worry about it. Traffic was light on the country road so every time he heard an approaching vehicle he turned, ready to dive into what ever cover he could if it turned out to be Eric and his Ferrari. Car after car passed him and he sighed. It most definitely was not his day.

Close to an hour after he had escaped he saw an approaching tow truck and frantically waved it down. The tow truck slowed down, "Singer's Salvage" painted on the side of the door. He briefly appraised the older grizzled man behind the wheel. He decided he looked harmless enough, but then, he had thought of Eric as his best friend. He had proven he was an idiot when it came to reading people but he approached the passenger side door all the same.

"Sir, can you maybe give me a ride back to town? I've got twenty bucks for your trouble."  


* * *

Bobby Singer was almost daydreaming as he drove back toward the salvage yard and his home. Soft pangs of hunger were beginning to nibble at him, and he hoped Dean had dinner going when he got in. He'd towed a wreck of a car to a home three hours away. The young man had been excited when he found the old Buick rusting away in his yard. The frame was twisted, the seats half rotted and the engine had been rummaged through for parts but the block and cylinders were still in it. The young man had been adamant; it was just like the car his father had owned and he wanted to restore one and this one, apparently was perfect. He offered Bobby enough money to make it worth his while to slap on some used tires and haul the beast the hundred and fifty miles. The man's place was littered with rusting junk heaps, and Bobby only shook his head until the man took him in the garage and showed him a freshly restored Thunderbird. He promised to send Bobby a picture when he got the Buick Electra rebuilt. Bobby had to admit, he was kinda looking forward to seeing it.

He almost didn't see the kid in time to slow down. Based on the uniform, the teenager was obviously from the same school Dean attended. He hit the brakes and pulled off to the side of the road almost reluctantly. He really wasn't all that keen on the rich folk that attended that school, but some of them were good people.

The teen came running up and looked in the open passenger side window hopefully. The kid had a good bruise along the side of his dirt smeared face, his lip was cut, grass and twigs were caught in his hair and his face showed scratches like he had been running through the woods.

Twenty buck was twenty bucks. And the kid looked like he could use the help. "Yeah. I'll take you," Bobby grunted.

Bobby moved some papers, a clipboard and some empty coffee cups, through them behind the seat so the kid had a place to sit and motioned in the young man in. Almost out of habit he flipped from the jazz station to a classic rock station.

"The jazz is fine, sir," Sam said as he got in. The truck was a mess of papers and litter, but it wasn't dirty. He sort of expected black grease on the dashboard and the inside of the door dark with years of filth. It was actually looked pretty nice, except for being messy.

The old man cocked an eyebrow at him. He hardly realized he had done it. If a teen age boy was riding shotgun with him, the radio had to be on the classic rock station, plain and simple. He gave a soft chuckle and flipped it back to the jazz station he liked. He had just gotten back in range of it, so he had to admit, he was glad. "Least you got good taste in music."

"I'm Sam. You're Mr. Singer?"

"Bobby," the man said. "So what happened to you? What are you doing way out here?"

Hesitating, Sam focused his gaze out the front window. "Hazing prank," Sam said simply, but the words fell flat, and sounded like the lie they were.

"Uh-huh," Bobby said. "Want to elaborate on that a little, boy?"

"Not really," Sam said stiffly. He'd had time to think while on the road. He had to go to school tomorrow. His books were in Eric's car. And wished that was the worst of it. He had worried about Eric making his life hell on that first day. After a thing like this? God, he'd be lucky to even survive the week. Well, after what happened, his parents would surely send him back to public school. The worst would be that Eric knew where he lived. It still might be bad, hell, probably would be, but if he returned to that school…he shuddered at the thought. He realized Eric had hardly let him out of his sight. He hadn't bothered to make friends with anyone Eric didn't introduce him to.

Bobby gave the kid a sidelong glance then shrugged. He'd already taken in one stray. This kid obviously had family and money or he wouldn't be in that school. Though the boy's clothes had been pretty abused by whatever happened, they were brand new clothes.

Bobby let the kid be, letting him stew in silence. When he reached the gravel drive to his place he turned onto it and a cloud of dust followed in the tow trucks wake.

"You can call your parents from my office," Bobby told him. He'd be damned if he was going to go driving into the Heights. He had to piss, his hunger pangs had grown, and he was damned tired of sitting in the truck.

The kid pulled out his wallet and handed him the promised twenty. Bobby noted the wallet was an old leather one, pretty beat up, and anything but designer. There wasn't a single credit card in that wallet and only a few other bills. Looked like maybe a few ones and a five. He reappraised the boy. The boy didn't come across as one of those high and mighty rich folk. He mentally shrugged. Didn't matter. He led the young man up the steps and into his house. He waved the boy into the first room on the right. It was a small messy office with receipt books and notes and maps. The black speaker phone sat on the beat up wooden desk.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Singer," Sam said. God, what the hell was he going to tell his parents. "Uh, what's the address here?"

Bobby picked up a business card on the desk and handed it to him.

Bobby walked further into the house. Wasn't like there was anything worth stealing in that office. He kept his money elsewhere and credit card receipts were in a lock box.

"Dean, I'm back," Bobby called into the kitchen, the smell of burgers wafting into the rest of the house. That boy was going to turn into a cheeseburger, and Bobby right along with him. He hit the restroom then walked into the kitchen.  


* * *

Dean had heard the old Tow Truck pull in up the driveway, so he wasn’t all that surprised to hear Bobby’s voice a few minutes later.

“Burgers will be done soon.”The young man called back from the kitchen. He gave the burgers he was frying up for dinner another flip, then stepped away from the stove. Cursing under his breath as he practically had hop over Rumsfeld on his way to the fridge to grab the cheese. The old dog barely lifted his head to watch him as though _Dean_ was the one in _his_ way, and of course didn’t move. Dean sighed and the dog’s tail thumped a few times on the floor before he lowered his head back down on his paws.

He knew Bobby didn’t like the old dog in the kitchen, especially when he was cooking, but Dean could use the company. After he’d gotten home from school he changed and spent most of the day separating the scrap metal from the wrecks that could at least be used for parts. After that, he went to work on one of the cars he was in the middle of restoring for a client. The engine was almost completely rebuilt, and the body work was almost finished. He was just waiting on one more part and then he could finish the interior and paint job. It would certainly bring in a pretty penny once he was finished.

After working for a few hours on the restoration he’d gone inside once it started to get dark and started dinner. Reluctantly he had fished out his homework to do at the same time. His history book sat open on the counter, propped up between the bread and condiments on the shelf. The pages were being splattered by hamburger grease, but Dean didn’t really give a fuck.

He hated history. In fact, he hated all of his subjects at school. He hated school in general. The only reason why he went at all was because he knew Bobby would kill him if he dropped out at this point. Dean had wanted to drop out two years ago, but the older man hadn’t let him. Insisting he needed a stupid education that Dean would never use anyway. Though Dean had to admit, sometimes he didn’t mind going, if only to piss off all the stuck up assholes that wanted him gone. The teachers as well as the students. The only reason why he didn’t let himself flunk out was because it pissed them off even more when he did well.

Dean smirked to himself. It was the little things in life that made it worth living.

“How many slices you want?” Dean asked the older man when Bobby walked in, dropping the cheese slices onto the sizzling burgers in the pan to melt. 

* * *

"Well, how many do I always want, you idjet. Two. And about half the onions you try to put on my burger." He sighed. "No, no onions. We got company. One a yer classmates. Picked him up on the road about forty miles out, says it was a hazing prank but weren't very convincing. Says his name is Sam and looks like he's probably a sophomore. He's calling his parents but the boy's probably hungry. Throw on another burger. He can have mine. And I'll eat some green beans instead of those greasy French fries. How many times I gotta tell you, you gotta start eating more vegetables. Yer gonna die of a coronary 'fore yer thirty. And don't be giving me that crap 'bout the lettuce and tomatoes being your vegetables."

*

The old black leather chair creaked softly as he sank into it. He really wanted something to drink. All he could taste was the disgusting flavor of Eric. But he needed to call his parents first. Gathering his courage he called his house. After the fourth ring the answering machine picked up.

"Mom? Dad? You there?" Getting no response he huffed. "Eric he…we aren't friends anymore. He's not the good guy I thought he was. I'm at Singer's Salvage. The number here is 555-266-5500. I need you to come get me. Please call as soon as you get in so I know you're on your way." He hung up the phone. When his parents went out, a lot of times they didn't get back until at least ten, sometimes a lot later. He could try to walk home but what if Eric or one of Eric's friends spotted him?

"I'm not going to hide like a frightened rabbit, dammit," Sam muttered. It probably wasn't more than ten miles to his place, maybe less. His legs already ached and he was thirsty and even a little hungry but if he got some water from Mr. Singer, he could probably make it home in an hour or two. There was cheap pizza in the freezer. That would be okay. He sat there a minute longer, tired, his adrenalin all used up, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Forcing himself to move he got out of the chair. He stood outside the office door.

"Mr. Singer, my parents aren't home and I'm not sure when they will be. I'm going to walk. Could I get a glass of water and use your bathroom before I go?"

Bobby glanced at Dean. "Go get the boy and bring him in here. He's not walking all the way to the Heights, even if he is a spoiled rich kid. And he needs a good meal. Don't give me that look. I'll finish getting your burger and fries ready for both of you. Now git."

* * *

Dean chuckled and plopped down two slices of cheese on Bobby’s hamburger, though he paused and looked at the older man questioningly when he said they had company. Company? They never had company. Sure people came by the salvage yard during business hours but they were clients, not company. Plus it was after hours. Dean hadn’t heard anyone else come with the older man either, that’s what probably bothered him the most.

Too much damned school. Maybe he was losing his edge.

When Bobby explained to him that it was one of his _classmates_ Dean didn’t bother to hide his scowl of displeasure. What the hell was one of those stuck up rich brats doing _here_? Those bastards knew better than to come around here. Dean had made sure of that.

Though the fact that Bobby said he’d picked him up on the road so far out of town threw him a bit. A hazing prank? Yeah right… whatever… Though for the life of him Dean couldn’t really think of any ulterior motives the boy… Sam… might be here for. It’s not like the boy could have known that Bobby was going to be driving by and agree to pick him up.

Grumbling to himself anyway, Dean turned back to the stove and threw on another burger despite his better judgment. Fine if Bobby wanted to let the boy call his parents for a ride or something, but why did he have to _eat_ here too. The brat would probably only turn his nose up at their offer of food anyway. But if he did, he supposed Dean could always eat the second burger himself anyway.

He was still muttering darkly to himself and ignoring Bobby’s reproachful glares boring into the back of his head when he heard the other boy’s voice from the hallway. Stuck up brat probably didn’t even want to share the same room with them. Bad enough his pampered ass had to touch the seat of Bobby’s old tow truck…

Still… he was going to _walk_ home? Not call a cab? Or even a limo service? That had to be a first.

Dean threw Bobby a glare when the older man told _him_ to go bring the other boy into the kitchen. Oh hell no, Bobby was _not_ brushing that spoiled rich brat off on him! Dean opened his mouth to protest but the “look” from Bobby, the one that clearly said I’m not too old to kick your ass, had him shutting his mouth again even though it was twisted in displeasure. He really didn’t want to have a fight with Bobby tonight, so Dean merely grabbed a towel to wipe off his hands, and threw it at Bobby’s head on his way out the door to fetch the older man’s newest stray pup.

Stepping out into the hallway and getting his first good look at the other boy, Dean’s first thought was Sam didn’t look anything like he’d been expecting. It wasn’t just the ripped and dirty clothing, the bruised face, and spots of blood here and there either. It was the wide eyed deer in headlights look on Sam’s face. Dean’s eyes zeroed in on the younger boy’s swollen and cut lip. Hazing prank… right…

“The bathroom’s this way.” Dean finally said, a lot less sharply than he’d originally intended. He led the way down the hall. Sure he could have just pointed Sam in the right direction, but he told himself he didn’t want Sam to wander around and steal something. Not that they had anything worth stealing to spoiled rich boys, but still.

Dean went into the bathroom first and pulled open the cabinet under the sink. He fished out one of their first aid kits, placed it on the sink, then turned to Sam standing in the doorway.

“First aid kit, use what you need, we’ve got plenty. Towels…” Dean pointed behind him on the rack. “If you want to wash up real quick. Bobby’s making extra food if you’re hungry.”

With that, Dean pushed past the younger man to let him inside the small bathroom. 

* * *

Sam frowned. The young man seemed familiar. He must have seen him around but he couldn't fathom where. His family could barely afford the school. He doubted, no offense meant to Mr. Singer, that this family could. Still, after Eric, the young man's presence sent a spike of fear through him. It took him a moment to make himself move and follow after the young man.

Sam waited at the door, unable to help his curiosity as to what the man was doing. When he saw the first aid kit, he felt some muscles in his shoulders unkink. As soon as the man stepped out, Sam stepped in. He wasn't sure what he wanted more, water to rinse away Eric's flavor and soothe his dry throat, or to piss. He decided pissing was the best first option because he really, really had to go. He remembered Eric's hand on his dick and suddenly wanted—no needed a shower. He hoped they wouldn't mind. He shed his clothes quickly and barely let the water warm up. Washing himself quickly, he focused on washing Eric's touch from his cock and then carefully cleaned way the dirt. Every scratch on his face stung and his palms were a lot rawer than he thought, now that he got a look at them. He quickly rinsed his hair, washing out the sweat and untangling the the small twigs and such still caught in his hair. He was out of the shower in under five minutes and hurriedly dried himself off. He knee and a few other scratches had begun to bleed. After cleaning them with alcohol that made his breath hiss, he smeared them with antibiotic ointment and bandaged them. There really wasn't much he could do for his hands. They were just scraped up.

Quickly redressing, he carefully cleaned up the loose packages of the bandages he used and closed the kit. He hung his towel back up and combed his fingers through his wet hair. He felt much better now. He replaced the kit from where he and seen the young man extract it and then headed out. Catching a whiff of the burgers his stomach churned noisily. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was. He saw a fresh burger cooking and two places already set, the plates filled with homemade French fries and the steaming burgers loaded with cheese and onions and everything. God it looked good.

"Thank you sir, for letting me clean up. I feel much better. He slid into the chair where the place setting was empty. "Can I help with anything? You should eat before your dinner gets cold."

"This is my dinner," Bobby said from beside the stove. "That's yours. You eat before it gets cold."

Sam honestly didn't waste anytime shifting to the other seat. He wasn't just hungry, he was starved. He took a bit bite of the hamburger, groaning in delight. As soon as he swallowed that first bite. "This is awesome Mr. Singer. Thank you so much. I-uh-only have a few dollars left but I'll gladly pay for your hospitality. He poured ketchup on his plate and dipped in one of the French fires. It was perfectly crunchy. "I sure wish my mom would cook fries like this."

He shifted his attention to Dean. "I'm Sam. I didn't catch your name," he said politely.

* * *

Dean stood out in the hall outside the bathroom door listening until he heard the shower start, then he shook his head with a sigh and headed back to the kitchen. Really, what kind of person would be so desperate for a shower that they’d be willing to do it in a complete stranger’s home rather than waiting ten minutes or so to shower in their own?

There was a pretty disturbingly obvious answer to that, especially considering Sam’s appearance, and especially considering Dean _did_ attend the same school as Sam. He knew the kinds of things that went on there all too well.

Dean shook his head again as he walked into the kitchen, told Bobby that Sam was getting cleaned up, and grabbed the two plates loaded with the burgers and fries. It wasn’t his problem. He had his own problems to deal with, and then some. The young man reminded himself as he set the plates on the table and dug into his own food without waiting.

Sam didn’t take long in the bathroom. Which was a good thing because Dean was only giving him about ten minutes before he would have gone to check up on him, make sure he wasn’t wandering around and getting into something he shouldn’t. Dean glanced up from his plate briefly when the younger boy wandered in. Sam looked better. Still bruised and his clothes torn up, of course, but he looked less frightened and jumpy at least.

Though again, he was taken a little by surprise when the younger boy actually offered to _help_ Bobby fixing his meal. For a second Dean had thought he’d be getting two burgers after all when the younger boy didn’t sit in the place that Dean had prepared for him. But he couldn’t help but grin a little when Sam started in on the burger like he was starving and the almost pornographic sound of appreciation Sam made pleased him though. If there was one thing Dean knew how to cook well, it was burgers and fries.

Of course Sam thought that Bobby had made the meal, but he didn’t bother correcting the younger boy’s assumption. He did toss Bobby a little smug grin when Sam praised his fries. Too bad he’d never been able to win the argument with Bobby that fries were technically vegetables because the potatoes grew out of the ground.

He was a little surprised when Sam turned his attention to him. He was sure that the younger boy would have been more than happy to ignore his presence. Most people did.

“Didn’t throw it.” Dean replied. Though catching the glare that Bobby was throwing at him now from the corner of his eye, he sighed.

“Dean.” He said curtly, and turned his attention fully back to his meal to dissuade any further communication. He knew that if Sam weren’t here Bobby probably would be smacking him on the back of the head by now for being rude. But then again, if Sam wasn’t here, then there wouldn’t be an issue in the first place.

* * *

The young man's clipped response made Sam sigh. Yeah, he was always a freak, no matter where he ended up. Why would the young man want to talk with him? He was a bruised up, clothes torn, complete stranger sitting in the young man's house and eating his food. He was lucky Mr. Singer was nice enough to pick him up. At least he hoped these two strangers were nice and nothing like Eric. A pretty facade hiding a bastard of a soul.

He realized it was probably pretty stupid to take a full fledged shower in a stranger's house. They probably thought it was weird too. As weird as they probably thought he was. He didn't suppose it mattered. It wasn't like he would ever see these two again. Since it was pretty obvious Dean didn't want to have anything to do with him, and Bobby hadn't either on the ride back to his place, he stayed quiet. His gaze swept the room curiously.

The kitchen was old, like 1950's old, but there was a microwave on the counter. The linoleum floor was worn, but still, it was clean except for some muddy paw prints. He realized abruptly that there was a dog lying on the floor near Dean's chair. It was a big dog, like a junk yard dog ought to be, but it certainly didn't seem ferocious like a junkyard dog ought to be. That was probably just as well since he really didn't need another animal pawing at him today. One had been more than enough. He had seen all the old books in the room he had passed through to reach the kitchen. Many didn't have names on their binders and of those that did, a lot were in Latin or languages he didn't recognize. He would have loved to perused them. There were a few books on the table by the back door. They were old books and the Latin titles in gold on their bindings suggested they were about demons and monsters if he was translating the worlds correctly. Beside the books was an open backpack filled with more books, text books. So Dean was in college. He wondered which one. Probably the community college, but he could be wrong. He wondered what Dean might be taking in college. He looked kind of rough around the edges, honestly, the type of guy you really didn't want to meet in a dark alley. He laughed bitterly to himself, yeah, well he would rather meet Dean in that alley than Eric. When Bobby shifted, flipping his burger and stirring the green beans he spotted the history book propped up on the counter. The words were out before he remembered the young man didn't want to talk with him.

"Your school uses the same history book we use. I didn't realize that was a college book. But doesn't that book suck? And the questions are so lame. Worse, my history teacher is an idiot. My new school is suppose to be the best of the best…I thought it was. Now," he shook his head. Finishing with a mutter he added softly, "I'll be lucky not to be in the morgue by the end of the week." Sam swallowed hard, realizing that though it was unlikely, he hoped, that Eric would actually kill him, there were a lot of alternatives that would be extremely unpleasant. Odds were he had only delayed the inevitable. Who would believe him? Eric was the darling of the school. He was nothing and no one. Come tomorrow he was probably going to get the shit kicked out of him. By the whole basketball team. Maybe could slip off to the closest public high school. It could be in the slums with gangs and he would probably still be better off than setting foot on that campus ever again.

"I wish I were in college," Sam sighed. "My parents put me in this stupid private school." He looked down at his school uniform. "But after today, I'm going to try to convince them the school isn't for me. Maybe they'll let me enroll in the public high school." He knew they wouldn't. They had already paid for the year for him. Maybe after Eric beat him up enough times they would. "I wish I was back at my old school," he said softly.

Sam reluctantly stopped eating when the plate was still half full. He was still hungry but running on a full stomach was a bad idea and he wasn't really sure how far he had to go. "I guess I better get going before it gets too late. It was really good Mr. Singer." He wiped his hands on the napkin, hissing a little as salt got into some of the scrapes. "Thank you so much for picking me up and giving me a ride," Sam said as he pushed himself to his feet. "If my parents call, just tell them I'm on my way home."

 

* * *

Dean looked up from his plate and glanced over at his textbook on the counter at Sam’s words before he could stop himself. His school? Oh… right… Sam didn’t know they went to the same school. And why would Sam even _consider_ someone like _him_ might also go to the pampered rich boy’s school? After all, just look at him, he was poor and he lived in a junk yard. He was definitely _not_ “prep school” material. As his teachers and the other students enjoyed reminding him on a daily basis.

Well… only in a passive way. Most students were too scared of him, his reputation, to even _look_ at him, much less speak to him. The teachers? If it wasn’t for the principal of the school they would have all been happy to flunk him out whether he did the work or not. Sometimes he really wish they would. He’d told Bobby a million times he didn’t need a fucking diploma. Especially from a place like that. He had no intention of ever going to college, he knew what he wanted to do with his life, damn it…

The young man grunted and took another large bite from his burger so he wouldn’t have to answer Sam. Again, not bothering to correct Sam’s assumptions about him. Sam would figure it out on his own soon enough. The school was only filled with the “elite” after all, and one of the requirements for being elite was there wasn’t many of them. The school was large, the campus was large, but the classes were small. Sam himself must be new, only transferred in within the last few weeks, or else the younger boy would have already known who he was.

If there was one thing this school had in common with every other school that ever existed, it was “reputations” traveled fast and Dean certainly had a reputation.

Sam’s mutterings had Dean frowning in spite of himself, and taking a closer look at Sam. Sam didn’t look like those other spoiled rich brats, he didn’t talk like them, and he certainly didn’t act like them. How Bobby had found him, how Sam looked standing there in the hallway, Dean’s eyes kept locking on the younger boy’s bruised face and swollen lip…

_Not my problem._ Dean reminded himself, turning his attention back to his food even when Sam stood up and announced that he was going to leave. Probably best, for all of them. 

* * *

"Sit your butt down and finish your meal," Bobby told the boy. "Dean will take you home when you're done." He gave Dean a glare that told the young man not to even try to protest it. "It'll take you two or three hours to get to the Heights from here on foot and it's already dark."

"Oh, I don't live in the Heights, sir," Sam said. "I live on the East Side in the Meadowglen subdivision. It's off of Toronto St. I'm sure it'll only be an hour or so if I jog it."

Sam wasn't really certain he was going to be able to jog though. His knee was really stiffening up on him. He must have whacked it harder on that rock than he realized. Still, if he managed a fast walk, he would probably make it in under two hours, probably before his parents got back in.

"You've been so generous, I don't want to impose any more than I have," Sam said. "And if I eat any more, Mr. Singer, it'll make jogging kind of uncomfortable. But that was the best burger I've had in a long time." Sam winced when he put weight on his knee. Once he got running, that would loosen it up. Still, he couldn't quite hide his limp as he head for the door. It was dark outside and his coat was dark. Good, if Eric drove by, he hopefully wouldn't spot Sam. Though by now, Eric was probably home, eating filet mignon and lobster. He'd rather have one of Mr. Singer's burgers any day.

"I said," Bobby said louder and firmer, "sit your butt down and finish your meal. Dean will drive you home. I'm not letting you walk that far at this time of night, and it's a good couple miles before there are any street lights."

Sam froze. The man meant it. One look at Dean told him the college boy absolutely did not want to drive him home though. Meekly, Sam returned to the table. "Yes, sir," Sam said.

He glanced over at Dean something of an apology in his eyes. The young man might have homework he would be keeping him from. He focused his eyes on his plate not looking up as he polished off the rest of the burger. Although he didn't want to leave any French fries, he just couldn't get that last handful down. By then, Bobby had sat down with his own meal.

Bobby studied the lanky youth. Bobby knew the prep school could be pretty rough, especially if you didn't have money. If the kid lived off of Toronto St, the homes were decent, two hundred thousand dollar homes on average he'd guess, but that just meant the boy was middle class. That made him an immediate target for the rich, snot-nosed boys. He knew Dean hated the school, but when the principal had offered Dean a free ride after they'd saved him from a werewolf, Bobby wasn't about to turn it down. Dean might think he wanted to hunt now, but the hunter's life was rough. If Dean found himself a girl and got out of hunting, having that prep school's name on his resume could make the difference between pushing a broom and running the place. Or what if Dean got hurt and couldn't hunt anymore? No, he wasn't about to let that opportunity pass Dean by. The kid had had it rough enough. Dean didn't talk much about what happened before Bobby found him that winter day five years ago curled up in one of the junk cars, Rumsfeld curled up with him, but Bobby knew the kid had had a rough life.

The kid had been a handful at first. Hell, still was a handful. He had found out enough about Dean to know the boy had lost his parents when he was about three going on four. He and his brother, having no other family, were put up for adoption. The sixth month old baby brother had been snapped up while Dean was passed from foster home to foster home, growing more and more rebellious. Digging a little deeper into the fire, Bobby honestly didn't think the fire was normal, thought maybe the supernatural had a hand in the death of his parents. Dean stayed with him all winter and Bobby started teaching him how to shoot a gun and fire a bow, and how to do research. The kid was sharp as hell if he wanted to be. And he took to fixing cars like nobody's business. He spent a year fixing up the 67 Impala he drove. He didn't remember a lot about his family, but he remembered his dad had been in the marines, liked baseball, was a mechanic, and owned a black car. Dean thought it might be an Impala but wasn't certain. His mom was a stay at home mom, had blond hair, and liked daisies. For a three year old, Bobby really figured that was pretty good.

Come that fall, it took some convincing, but Social Services let him foster Dean and he put Dean in school. He was a year behind his classmates and still hated school and kept skipping. Bobby told him flat out Social Services would take him away and put him in a different foster home if he didn't straighten up. It was one of the very few times he had seen the boy cry. After that, Dean went to school every day and kept his grades up to at least C's. Bobby convinced him to start getting A's and B's by dangling things like teaching him how to hunt if he kept his grades up.

When Sam finally finished his meal Bobby jerked his head at Dean. "Go on. Get the boy home."

 

* * *

Dean looked up and gave Bobby a glare when the older man volunteered him to take Sam home. Didn't he get a say in any of this? Why the hell did the older man keep trying to push the other boy off on him? Sam wasn't his problem. Bobby had picked him up, Bobby had brought him home like a little lost puppy, _Bobby_ could take him home too. Of course, Bobby's look pretty much told him that he'd either agree to take Sam home, or Bobby really _would_ lay into him, whether Sam was watching or not.

Hell, Sam didn't even _want_ him to drive him home…

Though Dean had to smirk a little when Bobby used the same no-nonsense tone with the other boy. It was nice for a change not to have it directed at him.

"Fine. Whatever." Dean finally agreed. Besides, it would get him out of having to do the dishes, and would probably take him all of ten minutes. Maybe he'd stop at a bar on the way home.

So Dean finished off his burger, sharing the rest of his fries with Rumsfeld, and downed the rest of his Coke before he wiped his hands on his already grease stained jeans. Seeing that Sam was done, Dean stood up.

"Let's go." He told the younger boy curtly, grabbing his keys off the counter and heading out without looking over his shoulder to see if Sam were coming or not. He led the way over to the garage connected to the house and opened the door. He got into his car and reached over the seat to unlock the passenger side door.

"Today Sam." He called out to the younger boy when Sam just stood there outside his car without moving.

* * *

“He’s a lot of bark,” Bobby told Sam softly as Sam started to follow Dean. “But he’s a good kid.”

Sam nodded but didn’t say anything. He limped along after Dean. When he saw the car he suddenly remembered where he had seen the young man. At his school. No wonder Dean didn’t like him. He also couldn’t help but feel that fresh stab of fear. He set his jaw. He had gotten away from Eric and could get away from Dean if it came to that. He reluctantly got in the car but refused to fasten his seat belt or lock his door.

“I thought you were in college.,” Sam said, keeping as much distance between him and Dean as he could. “I didn’t realize you went to my school, that you were the new guy. At least new for me. I guess everyone knows you, though.”

Inhaling sharply Sam pressed himself against the door, his hand on the door handle when Dean leaned toward him to adjust the stereo. When Dean didn’t make a move on him he exhaled softly and resettled in his seat. “I’m sorry your dad is making you do this when you don’t want to,” he said loudly over the music pouring from the speakers. He hunched down and leaned against the door, his head resting against the cool glass of the window. He wondered glumly if Eric was going to show up the next morning and try to pick him up. After he parents heard what Eric tried, they’d tell Eric to go blow himself. But other than Eric hitting him, what proof did he even have? Eric could come up with any lie. Thankfully his parents would never listen to such nonsense from the jerk.

“I’m such a stupid, naïve idiot,” Sam murmured quietly. He wasn’t going to cry though a part of his inside was hurt and scared enough he sort of wanted to. Saving his tears was probably a good thing. He had a feeling tears of pain were going to be a standard thing for him for at least the next few weeks.

“I live at 2910 Wakehurst,” Sam said then stared out the window into the dark night. “You’re not…friends with Eric Lancaster…are you?”he asked. He couldn’t imagine Eric would take up with Dean, but Dean was good looking. He could see it now, Dean taking him and dropping him off in front of Eric’s house. He shuddered at just the thought.

* * *

Dean didn’t fail to notice the expression of fear on Sam’s face when the younger boy got into his car. The young man merely shrugged at Sam’s apology, if that’s even what it was, about not having recognized him earlier. Dean didn’t really care one way or another.

He pulled the car out of the garage and onto the main road heading into town. He rolled his window down, and reached over to turn on the stereo. Hopefully so Sam wouldn’t find the need to talk to him anymore. Dean didn’t miss the way the younger boy flinched at his movement towards him or the way Sam practically hugged the door. As though the other boy fully intended to jump out of the car, whether it was in motion or not, if he had to…

Dean pretended not to notice, not that he particularly cared. Most people acted that way around him.

“Whatever.” The older boy replied and merely shrugged at Sam’s next apology. For being so obviously afraid of him Sam sure as hell liked to talk. He wondered if the younger boy was like that all the time with everyone, or if he was one of those people talked a lot when they were nervous.

Dean nodded when Sam told him where to turn and kept an eye on the street signs. He didn’t come into town this way often. No reason to. He supposed it was nice enough. All white picket fences and shit. Definitely not the Heights, though Dean had pretty much already guessed Sam wasn’t one of those rich boys even before he’d told Bobby he didn’t live up that way. Sam probably _would_ be a hell of a lot better off in public school, but again, it was none of his business.

Sam’s next question took Dean a little off guard and he laughed in spite of himself, he glanced briefly at Sam and then back to the road, shaking his head.

“Hardly. I broke the bastard’s hand a couple of years ago.” Dean said with no small amount of satisfaction. Though when he glanced at Sam again, the smile on his face was gone. “He the one who gave you that shiner?”

* * *

Confirmation that Dean wasn’t friends with Eric made him relax considerably. Turning toward the young man, his eyes widened when Dean said he broke Eric’s hand. He gave a soft snort before looking back out the front window. “Woulda been better if you’d broken something a little higher up, like his neck,” Sam said.

“Yeah, he hit me,” Sam said. “Hope I broke the bastards leg when I slammed the car door on it. I am so fucking toast tomorrow if my parents make me go to school. He practically broke my arm already and he wasn’t even all that pissed at me then.” He had to admit he was glad he didn’t have to walk these last miles. He was already pretty tired.

“Toronto is two lights up. You’ll take a left and then the third right.” He paused then asked quietly, “Did you break his hand because he made a move on you?”

Before Dean could answer Sam’s breath strangled in his throat when he saw Eric’s Ferrari sitting in the parking lot of the little strip mall. “Oh crap,” he whispered. He thought that was Cody’s Porsche and Adam’s Spyder beside Eric’s car. Sam sank as low as he could and prayed they hadn’t spotted him in Dean’s car. Maybe it was being cowardly, but if his parents weren’t home yet, maybe he could entice Dean to come in. Safety in numbers and all that, and Dean didn’t seem to be scared of Eric. They had a pool table in the basement. Maybe Dean liked pool.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin a little when Sam said he should have broken Eric’s neck instead. Not that Dean hadn’t been tempted to at the time. He wondered how Sam would react if he knew that Dean was fully capable of doing just that, and not in a just “joking” around kind of way. Well, he probably wouldn’t look nearly as relaxed as he did now.

The older boy raised an eyebrow a bit when Sam said that he’d hoped that he broke Eric’s leg earlier. Looking at the younger boy, Dean never would have guessed Sam would have that in him. But then again, people were capable of all kinds of things in certain situations.

Dean frowned as he stared out the front windshield, turning when Sam told him to. Not looking at Sam when the younger boy asked him why he‘d broken the little bastard’s hand. Well, Sam was probably going to hear about it eventually. Might as well get it over with.

“No. I broke his hand when I found the punk keying up my car.” Dean said simply. Glancing briefly at Sam to gauge the younger boy’s reaction before he continued. “A few days later, he and some of his friends decided to ‘teach me a lesson’ and I put two of them in the hospital.”

The fact that the fight hadn’t happened on school grounds was probably the only reason the principal had been able to pull the strings he could to make sure Dean hadn’t been expelled. Of course, Eric’s and the other boy’s parents had made quite a fuss about the incident. Talking about pressing charges and suing Bobby for every last cent he had and then some, even though it was pretty clear that Dean had been defending himself from the other boys. Again, the principal of the school had stepped in, talking about disciplinary measures against the other boys, including expulsion, and things had just kind of died away then. No way they were going to let their good family names be tarnished that way.

No one had bothered Dean after that.

Dean heard Sam’s startled gasp and the way the younger boy tried to hide himself by hunkering down in his car, but again, he didn’t comment on it. He just kept driving as though there were nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, it was pretty dark, and he doubted the boys Sam was so afraid of were hanging around outside peering into every dark window of a car that passed by for the younger boy.

He finally pulled onto Sam’s street and slowed down a little.

“Which house?”

* * *

It was a pretty car and to think of Eric keying it, something he wouldn’t have thought possible even this morning, seemed a crime. So Dean not only broke Eric’s hand but put two of his cronies—probably Adam and Cody—in the hospital? Wow. Maybe he could ask Dean to teach him how to fight. Not like he couldn’t fight, but he had never been in a fight like he expected he was going to be in if he got jumped. And he was certain Eric and his crew were going to teach him a lesson. Probably two or three.

The lights were off in his house. His parents were still gone. Sht. He twisted around to look down the street behind them but didn’t see any headlights of cars following them. “On the left, the one with the lights out and the maple tree out front.”

His house wasn’t the biggest or prettiest on the block. It needed a paint job and the bushes needed trimming. The roses up by the house were in full bloom though and in the daytime, they were stunning.

When Dean pulled into the drive, Sam looked over at him. “We have a pool table downstairs and there’s beer in the fridge. I, uh, don’t suppose you would want to come in and play a couple games of pool, would you?” There was clearly hope in his eyes and voice. Even if Eric and his posse hadn’t seen him in Dean’s car, it didn’t mean they weren’t going to do a drive by now and again, watching for him.

* * *

Dean pulled into the driveway of the house that Sam indicated and waited for Sam to get out of the car. At least, that’s what he’d been expecting the younger boy to do. He definitely, not in a million years, would have expected Sam to actually _invite_ him in.

He looked at Sam for a moment as though the other boy had grown a second head, before he sighed heavily and shook his head.

“Listen, Sam. I’ve done my good deed for the day. I’m not your babysitter, bodyguard, or whatever the hell you think I am, ok?” Dean finally stated, not harsh or angry or anything, just plainly stating the facts.

He gave the younger boy a slight smile.

“Eric’s not dumb enough to do anything like breaking and entering, where there might be witnesses, or that the cops can pin him on. Just watch your back.” He added, then gave Sam a little nod clearly saying that he should get out of the car now. 

* * *

Sam nodded at Dean's denial. It wasn't fair to get Dean involved in his trouble. "Yeah," he said hanging his head. "I know. I'm just…Dude., the guy was after my…" he huffed. "It doesn't matter. I gotta a feeling by the end of the week I'm going to have wished I'd just done what he asked." He looked up at Dean through the locks of his hair falling across his forehead. "Thanks for the good deed. And the offer stands, Eric or no Eric, if you like pool I'm usually up for a game. Course if my Dad's around, I might not be able to offer you the beer. Kinda depends on his mood.

"Look I might be some middle class geekazoid, but I can play a mean game of pool and we do have a playstation if you like video games." He sighed. "I guess that's probably stupid geek childish stuff too as far as you're concerned. I wish I'd never won all those stupid competitions and money."

He glanced back down the road. "I hope you're right that he won't come by tonight." Sam opened the car door, locking the passenger's side door before shutting it, and limped up to the house. He patted his pocket and groaned, laying his head against the screen door. His fricking keys were in his backpack. Which Eric had. He put on a smile all the same and waved good bye to Dean. His house had the type of windows you couldn't easily pry open. Maybe he could get in through the door to the garage around back. Could the freaking day get any worse? No, he really didn't want an answer to that. He knew the answer to that.

* * *

Dean sighed softly when Sam finally got out of his car and walked up to his house… but of course not without laying on a pretty heavy guilt trip first. He almost had to smile at that. Dean was pretty sure that the younger boy hadn’t even meant to do it, but he had his damsel in distress routine down to a T.

The thing was, Dean really did sympathize with Sam’s problem. The only reason why _he’d_ been left alone was because Dean had proved to be scarier than what the spoiled rich bullies were capable of. Eric had seemed to up his game a little in the last couple of years though… Sam didn’t need to explain to him what Eric had been after. Dean wasn’t stupid… and he wasn’t blind either.

Sam had apparently put up a good fight today, though, and escaped with his virtue intact. Dean was glad for that, he really was. The kid had spirit. Unfortunately he knew well that Eric and his friends would take great pleasure trying to beat that spirit out of the younger boy over the next several weeks. Hell, maybe worse than that… Dean sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair.

Dean would take vampires, werewolves, and zombies any day. Human monsters? They were so much worse in so many ways. Couldn’t just salt and burn them to get rid of them.

He watched Sam, waiting till the younger boy at least got safe inside his house before he drove off. When the younger boy didn’t go inside, Dean sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. Just kept getting better and better… Well, he’d been planning on stopping at the bar for a drink anyway. He sighed again as he leaned over the seat and popped open the glove compartment. Dean grabbed his lock pick kit and shut off the car before he got out and walked up to Sam’s front door.

Dean didn’t say anything and he didn’t wait for Sam to speak either. He simply examined the lock and then took out the tools he would need to open it. 

* * *

Sam was more than a little surprised when the growling engine of the Impala silenced and a moment later Dean got out.

"I'm okay. I can probably get in through the garage door. My keys were in my backpack, and my backpack…it's still in Eric's car.

Dean didn't pay him any attention and after looking at the lock, pulled out a couple long thin metal bars and thrusting them in the lock, had the door open in a matter of a few seconds.

"Wow," Sam murmured. "I've never seen anyone actually pick a lock except on TV."

As soon as he walked in he flipped on a light in the entrance way. To the left was a large formal dining room, cloth draped stylishly on the walls and a couple abstract paintings hung by the older china cabinet. One end of the table was covered in papers. Ahead was the living room, a brick fireplace in one corner and a large TV sat on the entertainment center, a VCR and a Playstation on the shelves below it. Vases with colored twisted sticks sat on the mantel. A hallway was off to the right. On the wall by the door were pictures of Sam and his parents taken five years apart. Sam's mother was petite and of Asian descent. Sam's father was of modest build, blond headed and blue eyed.

"Would you like a beer?" Sam asked as he pulled off his school jacket and hung it on the door knob.

* * *

It had only taken Dean a few seconds to pick the lock. He’d had enough practice over the years that it was really pathetically easy, and he almost wanted to tell Sam that he should tell his parents to get some friggen deadbolts installed. Instead he just shook his head, a little mystified, as he put away his tools by Sam’s reaction.

After everything the boy had obviously been through today, which really, should have been a fucking wake up call all on its own. And Sam’s only reply to the man, who had admitted minutes ago to putting two other boys in the hospital and just _broken in_ to his home in seconds flat was, ‘Wow’? No, not his only reply, but Sam had _still_ invited him into his home for a beer.

Dean sighed heavily. Sam was a fucking idiot. A trusting fool. How the hell had he even made it in this world this long? Maybe the younger boy was just really damned sheltered. His parents certainly weren’t doing him any favors, if that was the case. How the hell could Sam protect himself out there if he didn’t know what people were really capable of? But, a fool or not, he still didn’t deserve what Eric had done to him before.

If there was one thing that Dean had learned during his life though, was that a lot of evil shit happened to people that didn’t fucking deserve it.

Realizing that he was still standing outside on the front step like some kind of stray dog, Dean finally shoved his tools into his back pocket and stepped over the threshold. He shut and locked the door behind him as his eyes traveled around the immaculate living room. Sam’s family might not be rich snobs but they certainly weren’t doing bad, and Dean felt almost as out of place here as he would in those fancy homes up on top of the hill. He wondered if they had a maid...

“Yeah sure.” He finally answered as he looked around. Noting the pictures of Sam and his parents on the wall. The younger boy certainly didn’t take after either of them. 

* * *

Sam heard his sigh but was glad when Dean stepped inside. He couldn't deny he was still really shaken by the fact Eric and his friends had been out there waiting on him to pass by and knowing that Dean had taken them on and beaten them, it reassured him. He supposed Dean could be just as bad, hell, maybe worse, than Eric, but Dean seemed honest about who he was. He gave almost a small smile to himself. Dean just picked the lock to his house, but he did it to make sure Sam was safe and inside. That told Sam he was, well probably was, a good guy. Maybe Dean was light fingered, his ability to pick locks suggested he might be, but a thief over a rapist? Hell, he would take being robbed over what Eric was going to do to him any day.

Sam motioned Dean into the living room. There was a small breakfast niche with table and chairs just off of the kitchen. Sam walked into the kitchen and pulled out two beers from the fridge. He popped the caps on both of them and set them on the table.

"Take a seat, I'll be right back," Sam said. Sam hurried back to his bedroom and quickly shed his clothes and stepped into his favorite torn jeans and a T-shirt from Ron-Jon's. God he missed dressing like a typical teenager. He put on his old tennis shoes then walked back out to the kitchen. He knee was feeling a little better and he didn't limp as much. He hit the message button on the phone. The first was some sales call. The second was from Eric.

"Mr. Colt, Sam and I had a misunderstanding and he walked off. We were out in the country and I'm worried. Anything could happen to him out here. I'm looking for him now, but tell him I'm sorry," Eric's voice held deep remorse and it made Sam snort. "If he calls, would you call me? He really misunderstood, and I'm afraid he'll tell you some crazy things. I'll pick him up and get him home if you'll just let me know he's okay and where he's calling from. Please give me a call when you get this."

"Bastard," Sam muttered and hit the delete. The next call was his own call that he deleted. The last was his parents telling him they were going to be in late. HE sat down at the kitchen table and took a drink of his beer. What could he say to the guy that wouldn't make Dean think he was the loser he apparently was. Cock slut, echoed in his mind and he took a hasty drink from his beer and tried to block out Eric's words and forget the disgusting taste of the senior.

"Pool table is downstairs if you want to play a few games," he offered, then brightened. Dean liked cars. "You want to see my dad's old mustang? It's a 1965 manual 4 speed 289 V8 soft top convertible," he repeated by rote. He didn't know much about cars but his dad loved that old mustang so he knew it. "He was going to get it restored but then…the school's really expensive. I guess you know that though. It's taking everything Mom and Dad make to keep me there. They paid the base fee for the year, and for lunches, and uniforms and books. They're working overtime just to be able to save up the money so I can attend next year. It'll really help if I can win some science competitions." He took a long drought of the beer watching the guy across the table from him. He supposed the guy probably just wanted to get the hell out and away from the stupid schoolmate he didn't want anything to do with anyhow. "So? Pool, Mustang, or do you want to sit here and listen to the freak babble about things I'm pretty sure you don't give a shit about. If it were daytime we could go out back and do archery, though I could turn on the back porch light I guess. She practices at night sometimes. My mom competes," he told Dean proudly. "She she was in the Olympics one year even. I guess archery's probably pretty lame to you too, huh?" Sam paused. "Look, if you want to bail, that's cool too. I get it."

* * *

Dean followed Sam into the living room and waited there as the younger boy went into the kitchen and brought back a couple of beers for them. The beer just happened to be his favorite brand, and Dean smiled a little as he took a long pull from the cold bottle and sprawled himself comfortably on Sam’s couch. Alright, so maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe even a little bit better than sitting in a crowded smoke filled bar drinking piss warm beer that tasted like… well… piss.

Besides, if nothing else, the couch was pretty comfy and he was pretty tired. Dean didn’t mind at all helping Bobby out with the work around the salvage yard. In fact, most days he enjoyed it. But he was still a little worn out from the last hunt he and Bobby had gone on.

It was supposed to be a pretty routine salt and burn only a state away which turned out pretty not routine in the end. Turned out there were _two_ spirits haunting the place, not one. Instead of the weekend, the hunt had taken over a week, just to track down where both of them were buried. Then, like tag team wrestlers or something, the spirits had taken turns throwing him and Bobby around the graveyard as they tried to dig up the bones. At one point Dean had ended up cracking his skull pretty good on one of the headstones. The result of the beating and slight concussion that resulted meant Dean didn’t go back to school for another couple of weeks.

Dean certainly hadn’t minded skipping out on school for a couple of weeks, but it meant that work at the salvage yard had also fallen behind. His back was still pretty damned bruised up to, though most of them had faded to those ugly green/yellow splotches by this point from the dark purple they had been.

The young man glanced over his shoulder when he heard Sam return, and he approved of the younger man’s change in attire. Dean hated those god damned uniforms they had to wear. He would have refused if he could, but unfortunately they were required and there was only so many strings the principal was willing to pull for him. The man had already done enough, anyway.

He listened as Sam talked… and talked… the boy sure liked to talk.

“I never said you were a freak.” Dean finally said when Sam let him get a word in edgewise. Smirking a little as he added teasingly. “Though you do babble.”

“Pool.” He finally decided. Standing, Dean stretched his back and took another long drink from his beer. True he could just as easily drink and play pool at the dive of a bar he usually frequented, and he could probably work on making some extra bucks there as well. But for now he’d stick around here, play a few games with the younger boy, maybe see the car Sam mentioned. Until Sam felt safe enough Dean could split with a clear conscience. Besides, it had been a while since he’d played for fun and not money. “Just a warning though. I’m gonna kick your ass.”

* * *

Sam couldn't deny it. He knew he babbled, especially if he was nervous or excited. He was surprised Dean didn't consider him a freak though. Still, Dean had only just met him. He grinned when Dean agreed to pool.

"Do you know what geeks do since we don't have girlfriends? Play a lot of pool. You are not going to kick my ass."

He led Dean down to the half-finished basement. The pool table was in good condition and was a full sized competition table. Ten cues sat in a rack hanging on the wall, blue chalk coloring their tips. An old book shelf was stacked haphazardly with books and magazines, and there was an old ratty couch and two ratty chairs, one of which was a recliner. The floor was cement. A "Guiness" light up mirrored bar sign hung on one wall above a small fridge and an old stereo system sat on another table, tapes stacked up around it. Sam went over to the stereo system and put in Black Sabbath's "Heaven and Hell" and hit play. He wasn't a big rock fan but his dad liked it, so he thought maybe Dean would too.

"The blue banded cue is mine," Sam called over his shoulder. "You'll probably like the black. That's my dad's favorite."

* * *

Dean snorted softly at Sam’s reply. He seriously doubted that’s what most “geeks” did, but he didn’t argue. He hoped Sam was as good a game as he boasted though. It would be nice to have a challenge for a change. Dean decided he wouldn’t tell the younger boy that he had hustled quite a bundle out of guys claiming to be just as good, and were at least twice as old, as Sam.

He followed the younger boy into the basement. It was a little more down to earth than upstairs, and Dean felt a little more comfortable. Though the pool table and cues were definitely on the more expensive side than Dean was used to playing on.

Dean grinned at the music that the younger boy switched on and shrugged out of his flannel shirt, leaving only his black T on, and threw it over the back of a chair. Heading over to the rack, Dean picked up the cue that Sam had pointed out to him. It would do.

“Rack up the balls, Sammy. I’m breaking.” 

* * *

Sam was pleased to see Dean's smile. He had apparently chosen right. He decided his dad would probably like Dean. Cars, music, pool. They had a lot in common. His mom…hard telling. Sam chuckled to himself. Well, she liked dad and he had those interests. Even better was that Dean also attended the school.

Racking up the balls, he flicked them into order with practiced ease. "It's Sam, not Sammy," he corrected Dean. With a smug grin he added. "Or I'll call you Deany."

He carefully lifted the white triangle from the balls and watched as Dean broke. It was a nice spread, nicely set up for either solids or stripes but Dean hadn't sunk any balls which meant it was Sam's turn.

Sam studied the table for a five count. "Stripes," he said, and began sinking balls. On his last ball before the eight, he clipped the four ball, a solid. He sunk his ball but he pulled it back out and set it on the table in the break point spot with a sigh and stepped back. If Dean was as good as he said, Sam had just lost the game. Still, he was pleased with some of the shots he made. Some had been quite difficult.

 

* * *

Dean made a face when Sam threatened to call him Deany.

“Do it and die.” He ‘warned’ the younger boy, but it was pretty clear Dean was only joking. He stood back, nursing his beer and twirling the pool cue between his hands as he watched the younger boy rack up the balls.

When Dean broke the rack he purposefully didn’t sink any of the balls. It was force of habit really. Even if he wasn’t planning on hustling Sam, it was never a bad idea to know what your opponent was capable of before hand. He had to admit as he watched Sam sinking one striped ball after another that the younger boy wasn’t bad.

Sam was definitely... turning out to be more interesting than Dean would have given him credit for at first glance. The fact that the younger boy wasn’t afraid of him in the least, probably the most startling of all. He’d given the younger boy enough reason to at least be wary of him, even if Sam hadn’t heard half the rumors going on in that school about him. Sam seemed perfectly at ease around him though, and Dean had to admit, it was kind of a nice change.

When Sam clipped one of his balls, Dean smirked, set aside his beer and went to work. He didn’t bother holding back as he would have if Sam was a mark. He easily sunk every single one of his balls and finally the eight ball. Finishing off his beer with a smug grin as he waited for the younger boy to rack up the next set.

Three beers and five games later, Dean had won three games and Sam had won two. They were in the middle of the sixth game when the sound of the garage door and footsteps from the floor above announced the return of Sam’s parents. Dean finished off his beer quickly, taking that as his cue to leave. 

* * *

Sam was pleased with how he played, though he suspected one of the games he won Dean had maybe let him. The other game was a solid win. It looked like Dean was going to win this game too when he heard the garage door open and the solid steps of his father before the door sounded again.

"Sammy?" he father yelled.

"Playing pool," Sam yelled back.

Sam's father appeared at the top of the stairs. "It's a school night Sam. What are you still doing up?"

"It's a long story Dad, and I needed to talk to you and Mom."

Sam's father appraised the tall youth who was putting his and his son's pool cues back in the rack. Black t-shirt, stained and grease coated jeans, but clean cut, a nice looking young man really. The red flannel on the chair must belong to him. He saw the five empty bottles of beer sitting on the table.

"You know I don't approve of you drinking on a school night either-" he began then saw the bruise on Sam's face and his cut lip. He strode over to Sam and grabbed hold of his chin. Someone had hit his boy. His blue eyes flashed with anger. "I thought you were with Eric. Who did this?" he demanded.

"Eric," Sam said simply, pulling free of his father's grasp, a little embarrassed. "Dad, this is Dean Singer. I was hitch hiking—"

"Eric hit you? You were what?!"

"—and Dean's dad was kind enough to pick me up. Dean goes to Chalmers, too," Sam said. "Dean Singer, this is my dad, Jim Colt. Dean and his dad restore classic cars. Dean brought me home and was hanging out with me, making sure I was okay, until you got in."

Mr. Colt's eyes returned to the tall youth. He would get the full story out of Sam once their company was gone. He didn't recognize the Singer name as one of the richer families, but there were plenty of families with boys at the school whose names he wouldn't recognize. Car restoration could be ludicrous, but not really the type of business that might give Sam the contacts he would need. Then again, the Singers probably new a lot of people if they were restoring cars, people across a wide range of fields. That could be good, very good. He smiled broadly at the young man and held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Dean. Nice 67 Impala you've got. Thank you for looking out for my boy."  


* * *

  


Dean was putting the cues away on the rack when Sam’s father came downstairs. The young man plastered a semi-polite smile on his face he usually used for dealing with clients and didn’t say a word. He was well aware of the older man’s scrutiny of him, probably wondering what the hell someone like _him_ was doing in his home with his son. But then all the older man’s attention was focused on Sam, asking him what had happened, and Dean knew he really should leave now. He didn’t really want to get in the middle of this.

The young man grabbed his shirt, and was going to show himself out, when suddenly Sam was introducing him to his father. The fact that Sam had introduced him as Dean Singer didn’t really bother him all that much. Not like Sam could have known that Bobby wasn’t really his father, just his guardian. But when Sam told his father that he and Bobby “restored classic cars” for a living, his polite smile slipped from his face.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was sure as hell far from the truth. Dean felt what could only be described as disappointment settle into his stomach, which really pissed him off, because he really shouldn’t have expected anything less. Why the hell would Sam want to admit to his father, or to anyone, he’d been hanging out with trash from the junkyard, after all?

Sam was just like the rest of them. Worse even. Because at least the snot nosed rich boys up on the hill didn’t _pretend_ like they didn’t care what the fuck his social status was. No, they showed their scorn right out in the open. He was damned sure Sam’s father wouldn’t be smiling at him right now and offering to shake his hand if the younger boy had told him the truth.

“Sure. Thanks.” Dean replied without emotion, taking the older man’s hand only briefly before he pulled away and started for the stairs. “I need to go. I’ll show myself out.”

* * *

"No, I'll go with," Sam said, a little confused when Dean seemed suddenly upset. He gave his father a shrug, seeing his confusion as well. He followed Dean up the stairs. His mother was back her bedroom apparently.

"What did I say wrong?" Sam asked baffled as he followed Dean toward the front door. "That's what you do isn't it? I saw that car out back. It looked new. Like yours does. Are you…embarrassed…that your dad makes money using his hands instead of sitting in some office? I think it's got to be pretty cool scavenging through all those old wrecks and making something new out of them. And it's got to be, I dunno, more worthwhile doing that in the evenings than partying every night and drinking your life away like Eric and his friends do. Yeah, it was kinda cool these past few weeks, meeting all the "right' people, but it's all so…phony, so empty. Even more so, now that I know Eric was just showing off his new 'boy' to them. What you do, you create stuff, and that's way cooler." Sam hesitated. It seemed like all the rich parents wanted to know what his family did. Eric usually came up with lies and that bothered Sam, but he knew what the rich folk would do if they knew Sam was trashy middle-class. "My dad won't think it's lame, if that's what matters to you. I just figured…you didn't seem like the type to care about that sort of thing. I'm sorry, I guess I should have let you tell him what you were comfortable with."  


* * *

Dean quickened his pace to the door as Sam babbled on behind him, the younger boy’s ramblings, apologies, whatever, only pissing him off more with every step he took. Of all the fucking nerve asking him if _he_ was embarrassed by what he and Bobby did for a living. He opened the front door and finally stopped and turned to glare at Sam.

“I live and work at a _junkyard_ , Sam. Plain and simple. Not some fancy auto body shop like your Daddy probably thinks now. Why don’t you go tell him that, and see if he still wants to shake my hand.” Dean snapped angrily before he could stop himself, and then schooled his expression.

“I don’t really give a damn what you think. Or what he thinks. I told you before, I’m not your god damned babysitter, bodyguard, and definitely not your ‘buddy’. And I certainly don’t need you to sugar coat my life for me.”

Dean didn’t wait for Sam to reply before he turned around and walked quickly to his car. Fishing his keys out of his pocket he got in and started her up. The roar of the engine was familiar and comforting as he peeled out of the driveway and down the road without so much as a glance in his rearview mirror.

Maybe he’d still hit the bar on his way home. Have a couple more drinks and play some real god damned pool before he went home and forgot that Sam Colt existed. 

* * *

Sam's eyes widened at Dean's explosion and anger. He stepped back, unsure, and for the first time got an inkling of the fact Dean could be dangerous. The look in the young man's eyes.

"Okay," Sam said meekly. He watched as Dean stomped out to his car and burned rubber as he left. He sighed. God what a fucked up day.

"Son?" his dad asked. "You going to tell me what's going on?"

Sam closed his eyes. He wasn't about to tell his father Eric tried to molest him. That was just too, well he just couldn't tell him. "Eric wanted me to do something I didn't want to do. He hit me when I refused. I ran. Mr. Singer picked me up in his tow truck and took me back to his place, Singer's Salvage. I got cleaned up, they fed me dinner, then Dean brought me home. Eric and Adam and Cody, they were waiting for me to come by on Toronto Street, but didn't see me in Dean's car. Dad…I can't go back to that school."

Jim Colt listened to his son's explanation, and his eyes hardened. "You are going back to Chalmers. I'm certain it was a misunderstanding. I'll take you in tomorrow morning. You see if you can't work it out with Eric."

"No! I'm not talking to that son of a bitch again! He hit me Dad. Don't you even care?"

"Of course I care. But I know you work it out," Jim told him firmly. "His family is one of the richest in that school. You get back on his good side."

"So if he wants me to snort cocaine, you want me to do it?"

Jim scowled. "Of course not. Don't be afraid to defend yourself and don't be afraid to stand your ground. They respect that."

Sam laughed bitterly. "Fine."

"Don't you use that tone with me, Samuel. This school is costing us everything. I'm trying to make sure you succeed. Sometimes you have to make hard decisions and sometimes you have to do things you don't want to, to get yourself where you need to be. Do you think your mother and I like working overtime? We placed a second mortgage on the house. The school is paid for for the year. You are going to go there, you are going to make friends with the right people, and you are going to like it. You've been quite happy until this altercation with Eric. Fix it."

"Yes sir," Sam snapped, grabbed his coat from where it hung on the door handle of the closet and stomped back to his room, slamming the door.

*  
Sam didn't feel like eating breakfast come morning. He dressed in a set of his used school clothes. He still had one nice set and considering he figured he was going to get his ass kicked, he wasn't going to wear his only remaining set of good clothes.

"Where are your books," his father asked.

"Eric has them," Sam answered quietly.

"Even more reason to fix this. I want you in your new clothes. Dressing like that won't impress anyone."

Sam glared at his father, then went and changed. He stuffed his old clothes down into his old book bag. At least all of his text books weren't in the bag in Eric's car. He came back out. "Are you or mom picking me up?"

"If you can't make up with Eric, you'll just have to ride the public bus. Both your mother and I are working overtime, remember?" Jim said pointedly.

"Yes sir," Sam said.

"Now get in the car. I know you'll be getting there early, but I've got to get into work."

Sam went out and got in the car. If he'd know he was going to have to ride the bus, he would have stuffed his jeans and t-shirt in his back pack too.

The ride to the school was silent. He got out of his father's car without saying a word, slamming the door. He made a beeline for his homeroom. Eric's car was already in the parking lot and he just hoped he could get to homeroom before Eric, where ever he was, spotted him. Well, after he stopped and changed in the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Eric stood outside one of the largest classroom buildings. Waiting. Knowing Sam would eventually have to show up here today for home room and he planned on being here to 'greet' the younger boy. Adam and Cody were passing a lit joint between them and Eric took a hit off of it every once in a while. None of them were worried about getting caught. Not this early in the morning, most of the teachers hadn't even shown up yet.   


  
Eric didn't think they would have to wait very long for the younger boy. He'd learned Sam and his parent's routine pretty well over the last several weeks. He knew that if one of the younger boy's parents brought Sam in, or if Sam took the bus, then it would probably be early. Sam's first day of school had been an exception. That was why he'd originally offered to bring the younger boy to school every morning. 

Eric scowled as his leg throbbed as he shifted his weight against the wall he was leaning against. Sam hadn't broken it. Lucky for him. But that certainly didn't mean that he was going to let the little fuck get off lightly. Oh hell no. He was going to make that little cock sucker wish he'd just sucked his dick nice and pretty and let Eric plow his pretty little ass. He's going to be _begging_ to do just that by the time they were through with him. 

If he showed up for school at all today, that was. Well, in that case, they'd simply go to the younger boy's home. Somehow they'd missed catching Sam on his way home last night and Eric wasn't pleased. But the fact that the police hadn't shown up at his home at any point during the night pretty much confirmed to him that Sam hadn't told anyone what had happened. Eric had been prepared, of course, if he had. But it wasn't like Sam had any proof of what Eric had done, and Sam knew that. 

They all caught sight of the younger boy pretty much at the same time, hurrying towards the building where they were standing. Of course standing behind the angle of the stairs, Sam couldn't spot them easily. Eric waited until Sam got close enough he knew the younger boy wouldn't be able to outrun them easily. Giving Adam and Cody the nod the two other boys went after Sam.    


* * *

Sam was watchful as he headed to homeroom. Eric knew him, new his habits. He hadn’t seen any of the young men’s cars in the parking lot, and they were probably too arrogant to think of parking elsewhere. They had all day to catch up with him, and more likely than not, Eric would strike at the end of school when Sam was trying to get to the bus. Hopefully his father had gotten him in early enough, but then having to change clothes had slowed him down a little. So long as he could keep with a crowd or in sight of a teacher, he figured he would be okay. At least he hoped so. He wasn’t entirely certain anyone would come to his rescue if he got jumped. He had seen just how much power Eric wielded. He wondered if there were any other like Dean who had stood up to Eric. Maybe he could ask around. It was a sure bet Dean didn’t want anything more to do with him. He'd made that pretty clear the night before.

Sam slowed as he grew closer to the building. No sense being stupid about this. He stopped and studied the shadows near the doorway, but he didn’t see anything. He moved forward a little slower and caught movement near the stairs, catching a slight whiff of weed. He had barely caught sight of Cody and Adam when he hauled ass toward another building. It didn’t matter. The two older boys were simply too close and too fast. Cody tackled him and he slammed into the ground, his already injured knee taking another hit. When they pulled him to his feet, he twisted and kneed Adam in his jewels, slipped his arm free and punched Cody in the gut. Cody hung onto him though and backfisted him across the face so hard he saw stars and fell back. Adam grabbed hold of his other arm and dragged Sam toward the building where Eric waited. Sam was still trying to clear his head by the time they reached the dark shadows of the stairs.

* * *

Eric watched the very brief fight with amusement. Of course Sam had no chance of escaping, not against two young men who were bigger, stronger, and faster than he was. He kept an eye out to see if anyone had witnessed the fight, but as he figured, there was no one around to notice. No one around who would really give a damn even if they had seen it. The place was deserted. They might as well be back out in the middle of nowhere where he'd brought Sam yesterday. Sam was alone.

He watched as his two friends dragged the dazed younger boy back over to him and then they moved further around the side of the building. Just in case. He didn't want to be interrupted as he taught the little shit a lesson he'd never forget.

"Hi Sammy." Eric said when he finally turned to the younger boy, punching Sam in the gut so hard he doubled over and probably would have fallen to the ground if Adam and Cody weren't still holding him upright. Eric grinned and punched him again. He wondered if he could make the little shit puke all over himself. That would be a nice way for him to go to class today.

"I warned you, didn't I, Sam? Not to piss me off." Eric talked almost casually, punching Sam again hard in the stomach. "Maybe you're not as smart as I thought you were."

Eric motioned and Adam and Cody let the younger boy finally drop on the ground. Eric wasted no time kicking Sam in the ribs.

"All you had to do was suck a little cock, roll over like a good little whore, and everything would have been fine. You might have even liked it once you got used to it." Eric continued, walking around Sam, kicking the younger boy in the kidneys next.

"You know what's going to happen now, Sammy? No more parties. No more special treatment. Everyone's going to know you're not my little bitch anymore, and that makes you free game. You think what I wanted was bad?" Eric kicked Sam again, and then stood back. That was enough. For now. Didn't want to damage him up too badly that Sam had to go home or to the infirmary. The younger boy had a lesson to learn.

"We're going to 'talk' again, Sam. And next time, maybe you'll be singing a different tune. Let's go." Eric told the other two boys, walking away from Sam and leaving him lying on the ground. Adam kicked the younger boy one last time in retaliation for Sam's earlier crotch blow and Cody spat on the younger boy as they passed.

* * *

Sam knew he was fucked. Probably literally. There was no one around to help him, no one to come to his defense. Whatever Eric wanted to do to him, with Cody and Adam holding him, he could. There would be no tricking the senior this time.

When Eric hit him, he could have believed it if someone said Eric’s fist went clear through him and to the other side. Trying to draw in a breath was a struggle. The second punch was almost worse and he was really glad he hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast. The third punch was just as hard as the first two and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to stand up straight again. He would have made some smart-ass response if he could have drawn enough breath to say anything. He suddenly found himself on the ground and almost immediately a foot was in his ribs. He curled into the fetal position trying to protect his stomach and ribs only to arch back when that same foot nailed him in the kidneys.

“I’ll never be your whore,” Sam wheezed. He didn’t know what Eric meant when he said Sam was free game. Did other boys here…? Maybe no one else would have an interest in him, not that way. He gasped at the next kick. If he had been singled out as Eric’s there wasn’t a chance in hell others weren’t going to come after him now that Eric had hung him out like so much bait. “I’ll never come back to you,” Sam whispered.

After being kicked and spat upon, he laid there for a few minutes, waiting, but the seniors were gone. He pushed himself to his feet, but he was right, straightening up was almost impossible. He slowly made his way out front to the empty courtyard, picked up his dropped bookbag and headed into the bathroom. He was scraped up again, his knee torn out of his uniform, a beaut of a bruise on the other side of his face from the one Eric had given him the night before and, lifting up his shirt, he saw his abdomen was ringed with slowly purpling bruises. Blood dripped from his nose and onto his shirt. Grimacing, he changed over to his other older clothes and made his way to his locker. He hung his bookbag inside and pulled out a notebook and pen, emptying it of all notes so if it were snatched or lost, he wouldn’t lose everything. Like he had by leaving his bookbag in the Ferrari. He limped to his homeroom and sat down at his desk. Normally he would be reading a book, or doing school work, or whatever. He didn’t want to do anything today. He hurt too damned much. Instead he just stared out the window, watching as the boys and teachers slowly began to trickle in for the day’s lessons.

* * *

Dean had woken up with a hangover. Ok, so he'd had more than a couple of beers at the bar he stopped at on the way home last night. But he'd pulled in a good three hundred bucks from hustling the other drunks at pool and darts so it had been a fairly productive night in his opinion. A hell of a lot more productive than playing chauffeur and bodyguard had been.

Bobby hadn't been all that pleased however when he came home after two in the morning on a school night smelling like cigarettes and booze. The older man had verbally ripped him a new asshole and then sent him to bed. He knew he'd disappointed Bobby, and knowing that hurt him a lot worse than anything else the older man could say.

First thing he did when he woke up was run to the bathroom and puke. He knew there was no way that Bobby was going to let him stay home from school today, since he'd made himself sick, and now he was paying the price. At least the older man had taken pity on him and left out the bottle of Aspirin and a full pot of coffee for him when Dean had finally dragged his zombie ass downstairs.

Dean sighed as he grabbed his history book off the kitchen shelf and shoved it into his backpack. He never did finish his homework. Oh well.

*

The hours crawled by much the same as they did every day, only today they seemed to crawl even slower just because he was hung over. Life was just special like that. Dean hadn't so much as thought about Sam all day. He had his own problems to deal with, after all. He hadn't even seen the boy and if Sam was smart, he wouldn't have even come into school today.

Unfortunately Dean passed by Eric and his friends in the hallway around lunch time and the bastards looked way too pleased with themselves. A somewhat sick feeling settled into his stomach that had nothing to do with the queasiness he'd woken up with this morning, but he shoved it away. Sam wasn't his problem.

* * *

Just as with the first day, the entire school seemed to know by the end of first period that Sam was no longer ‘protected.’ He’d had half a dozen guys press themselves up against him from behind, whispering filth into his ears, promising to do things to him that almost made him ill. A couple had tried the smoother, gentler methods, not so different from Eric’s that first day he had arrived at the school. Friendliness, promises of parties and showing him the ropes, but the lascivious looks they gave him told him what those ropes were. Between third period and lunch four seniors jumped him in the bathroom. They rubbed against him, ran their hands all over him, and argued over who had the most right to him. When he tried to slip away, one of them punched him across the jaw, splitting open his lip and knocking his head into the mirror, the glass spider webbing from the blow. He collapsed to the hard linoleum floor. As they left they laughed and promised they would make a decision soon as to who got first dibs on him, as to who got to fuck his pretty little tight ass.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position after they were gone. His head hurt but he was pretty certain he hadn't gotten a concussion out of it. He did pull a few shards of glass from the bleeding wound though. So this is what Eric had been 'protecting' him from? He sure as hell didn't buy all the seniors were hot to get their dick into another guy. They were all rich and he had seen the sorts of girls they had available to them. No, he didn't believe it. Eric had to be behind it. Scare him, make him think he was going to get gang raped or something. Still, there might be a handful of guys looking for that thrill of domination over a younger boy. Enough that Sam might just end up having one of them do more than make noises and threats, and he had no idea which of the seniors, or juniors for that matter, might just decide Sam was ripe for the picking. A freshman walked in just then and paused, seeing Sam sitting on the floor, bleeding. The young man glanced around a little nervously but once seeing the bathroom was empty, retrieved a paper towel that he wetted and handed to Sam.

"You're Sam Colt. Got dumped by Lancaster."

Sam huffed as he wiped at the blood on his lip then moved the towel to his bleeding skull. "Seems like everyone knows me. And if they don't, they want to."

"I'm Randall," the young boy said and offered Sam a hand up. "The good looking ones, they get staked right away. Eric's last…friend, took a tumble down the bleachers, broke his leg up bad. He never came back to school. If you catch Eric's eye, like you did…you're boned."

"Are the, all the seniors and juniors, like this? Don't they have fucking girlfriends or something?" Sam asked, accepting the boy's hand and immediately regretting it as his bruised gut protested. His breath hissed but he made it to his feet, leaning on the sink as he turned to look at himself in the mirror. Jesus he looked a mess. Fat lip, black eye, bloodied.

"No, but enough. And most of them are the richest ones so they pretty much rule. If you want to hang with them, then you do what they do or do as they say. I'm lucky. My friend's brother goes here and even though he isn't sponsoring me, the others leave me alone. You never really know who they're going to go after. I've heard if you're a virgin, they like it better. You've got it twice as bad. You're not rich and Eric likes you…that way."

"Sponsoring? What's that?" Sam asked, get more towels and wiping away the blood that trickled down the side of his face. Head wounds always bled like a mother. He put pressure on it, wincing.

Randall shifted uncomfortably. "It mean's…being someone's…bitch. You got a sponsor, the others will leave you alone. Usually. So…how come Eric stopped sponsoring you?"

Sam met the boy's gaze in the mirror. "'Cause I wouldn't suck him off. That limping he's doing? Slammed the fucking car door on his leg. Was really trying to break it. Too bad I didn't."

Randall's eyes widened. "No wonder he's pissed. An if you had broken his leg you'd probably be in juvi hall, up on charges of assault, and the basketball team would be even more pissed at you than they are now."

"Swell," Sam sighed. "What about the teachers? They actually put up with this?"

Randall shrugged. "Some might care, but no one crosses the Lancasters. Until you get a sponsor, go back to Eric, or leave the school…this is probably what it's going to be like for you. You're unprotected. Fresh meat."

"I won't be someone's bitch!" Sam snarled.

Randall backed away and said softly. "Yeah. You will. Or you'll end up having an accident. A bad one."

Randall turned to the urinal and took care of what he had come in for. Sam tossed the bloodied towel into the trash, picked up his half mangled notebook with a grunt, and left. As he crossed the campus for the lunchroom a junior smirked at him and puckered his lips in a kiss. Another one pumped his finger back and forth through the circle he made with his other fingers. A third stuck his finger in his mouth, wrapped his lips around it and slowly pulled it out, staring at Sam.

Sam tried to ignore them as he strode quickly to the lunch room before someone else accosted him.

* * *

Dean grumbled under his breath as he made his way to his car in the parking lot. He’d gotten detention today because he hadn’t had his history homework to turn in. Had to write lines... he couldn’t believe they still made you do that crap... all through lunch period and then wash down all the black boards in the classroom before the next class came in. Sure, he could have told the teacher to go fuck himself, he’d wanted to, but if he did he knew that would have only made things worse. The lunch detention would have turned to after school detention, and he couldn’t waste time hanging around here.

Bobby needed his help to keep the salvage yard running, and Dean gladly did his part. It was hard work for a hunter to do the job and still earn a legitimate living. But Bobby made that sacrifice for him. He owed Bobby everything.

The older man had taken him in when everyone else had just passed him off to someone else. Bobby understood him, believed him when no one else did. Believed him when he told the hunter about the glimpse of hell he’d seen when he was three years old. The night he’d lost his whole family. When he looked into his little brother’s nursery that night, saw his mommy on the ceiling, his daddy running back into the flames while Dean had carried his little brother outside...

Dean swallowed hard and quickened his pace. The forbidding expression he wore sending a group of younger students scurrying out of his way in fear.

He’d lost everything that night. When the firemen and paramedics finally came, they tried to take Sam away from him. Dean hadn’t wanted to let go of his baby brother. He’d screamed and fought them, tried to run away from them. To protect his baby brother like his daddy had told him to. Sam had started crying, but they had taken him away anyway. Sam had cried louder after they took him away, and they’d sedated the frantic three year old.

Sometimes he still woke up from nightmares of that night. His mother’s screams as she died mingling with the sounds of his baby brother’s cries as they took him away...

Dean got in his car and slammed the door with a growl, then he mentally apologized. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, started the car, and pulled out in his usual display of burning rubber and too loud rock. Fuck, he could use a drink tonight, but he knew he wasn’t going to get one. Not after his little display last night, Bobby wouldn’t allow it. After he helped Bobby in the salvage yard, the older man would probably have him clean all the guns, either as a punishment or to keep him out of trouble, till it was time for him to go to bed. It would suck, but Dean wouldn’t complain about doing it. It needed to be done anyway.

That was when he saw Sam walking down the sidewalk leading away from the school. He hadn’t been looking for the younger boy. In fact, if he blinked, Dean probably would have missed him. But he hadn’t blinked and he recognized the other boy immediately. He also saw just how different Sam looked in just one day. The younger boy was limping, a lot more than he had been yesterday. There were also more bruises on his face than there were last night and Sam walked with his shoulders hunched like the weight of the entire fucking world was on them.

He also saw a small group of boys from their school following Sam. Talking among themselves, laughing, eyeing the younger boy up... then they started to close in on him.

An irrational stab of anger flared inside of him and Dean slammed on his brakes hard enough that they screamed in protest. A car behind him had to swerve, horn blaring, to keep from hitting him from behind, but Dean didn’t pay them any attention. The boys who’d been following Sam all stopped, staring with wide eyes and looking like they might have just shit themselves. They liked that? They were going to love this.

“Get in the car, Sam.” Dean called to the younger boy from the open window. 

* * *

The day hadn't gotten any fucking better. At lunchtime two seniors joined him, one on either side. They jostled him, made jokes, whispered in his ear, and one even had the balls to reach to hi inner thigh and squeeze his cock. Hard. Sam grabbed the tray his food was on and slammed it upside the senior head so hard he knocked the young man off the bench and on his ass. The senior was ready to get on his feet and deck Sam when a teacher intervened.

When the teacher demanded what happened, fury got the better of Sam. "The sonuvabitch grabbed my cock. I guess he doesn't have a big enough one of his own."

The teacher yanked him out of the lunch room and threatened him with detention, but seeing Sam's bruised face, let him off with a warning and told Sam to get to his next class. The teacher even escorted him there and shut the door, told Sam to stay out of trouble and to just try to keep a lower profile. There was a bit of sympathy in the eyes of the teacher, but nothing else was said.

He'd gotten groped and a few more blows had been landed hard into his ribs before the day was over. When the school bell rang he was out of there like a shot. Fuck his books, fuck his homework. He wasn't coming back the next day. His dad could just deal with it. He was walking toward the distant bus stop and just hoped he could get there without anyone else messing with him. He was tired. He hurt, his knee was killing him, and he hadn't eaten since the burger from the night before. Yeah. A fucking great day. And if what Randall said was true, it was going to be like this from now on. He limped down the sidewalk, his yes on the pavement. He heard the boys behind him. Great. Probably another beat down.

He damned near jumped out of his skin when he heard the breaks and the car horn. His first thought was that it was Eric and his heart was in his throat. He stared dumbly for a moment at the black Impala. Glancing back at the gang of boys who looked scared half to death, he forced himself to be casual as he climbed in but his hands were shaking as he shut the door.

"Thanks," Sam mumbled. He winced as he bent his injured knee and hung his head. Leaning against the seat back hurt his bruises but he didn't care. He just wanted to break down and cry at this point, but he was too damned old for that.  


* * *

Dean would have had to been a blind idiot not to notice the slight hesitation in Sam or the way the younger boy’s hands shook when he climbed into his car. Not to mention how slowly and carefully Sam moved and the wince of pain that the younger boy couldn’t hide. The former Dean knew was his fault, for what he’d said to Sam last night, and the older boy knew he was an asshole for it. But Sam still got in the car. Sam was still less afraid of him than he was of the other boys following him. The latter... it might not have been his fault Sam had gotten the shit kicked out of him today, but Dean knew he could have stopped it. If he’d really wanted to... and that made him feel like an even bigger asshole.

The young man gave the group of boys one last death glare that had them hurrying back in the other direction. It would have been amusing, considering the other direction was right back to school, but right now Dean didn’t really give a damn. Another car passed him on the road, blaring his horn and calling him an asshole, and Dean merely gave them the one fingered salute as Sam got settled.

“Sure.” Dean merely replied quietly to the younger boy’s offer of thanks. Turning his attention back to the road as he started driving again. He wanted to turn down the music just a little, but considering Sam’s reaction yesterday in the car when Dean had reached towards him that might be a bad idea. He wasn’t looking to freak the younger boy out any more.

“You can turn down the music if you want.” Dean said instead, giving the choice to Sam. When they reached an intersection with a stop light, Dean finally gave Sam a good once over. The younger boy didn’t look any better on a second appraisal, that much was for certain.

“Do you need to go to a hospital?” He finally asked. Dean was pretty sure that Sam didn’t, but the fucking bastards had worked the younger boy over pretty good. Sure, his face was pretty well bruised up, but the way Sam moved Dean knew they’d done a lot more than just hit Sam’s face and there was really no way for him to gauge the damage unless he took a look. Dean seriously doubted the younger boy would want to have anyone’s hands on him at this point, and certainly not _his_.

* * *

The music was loud, but be hardly cared. Dean wasn’t his babysitter, bodyguard or friend. He’d made that perfectly clear. It wasn’t Sam’s place to mess with the radio. He really didn’t understand why Dean even bothered to intervene except maybe to piss off Eric. He could tell Dean was looking him over. Let him look. Everyone else had. If Dean tried to touch him though, he would find out Sam could punch. There wasn’t a gang to hold him.

“You can drop me off at the bus stop. It’s only about a half hour wait and it stops about ten blocks from my house. I doubt any of the rich kids will sully themselves coming into my section of town just to harass me. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble though, I sure could use a burger from McDonalds. It’s on the way. I haven’t eaten today. I’ll buy you a burger or drink or whatever you want if you would.” Sam still didn’t look up, studying his bruised hand. One of the guys had stepped on it. Didn’t break anything but it was nicely bruised all the same. It hurt to make a fist. It hurt to write. It was his right hand, naturally.

Surely after his father saw his bruises he would let Sam return to public schools, right? He could be sick tomorrow and not go to school, but he couldn’t get away with that for long so what was the point? And he knew his dad would just tell him to defend himself, he knew how to fight, why was he taking this from the other kids. Make up with Eric and Eric would surely straighten those kids out. Sam gave a soft snort. Randall was right. He was boned.

* * *

Dean barely kept from scowling as Sam completely side stepped his question of whether or not he needed to go to the hospital. It pissed him off a little, but he supposed he deserved that. They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms, and Sam had had one pretty shitty day. So he let the younger boy off with only a mild glare before he turned his attention back to the rode when the light changed.

The bus stop. Yeah right. Like he was really going to leave Sam on the side of the road to catch the fucking public bus and then have him _walk_ home. Even if the younger boy didn’t need to go to the hospital (he didn’t think Sam was stubborn enough not to admit he needed medical attention just because he was pissed off at Dean) he was hardly up to walking ten blocks. Plus he really didn’t want to take the chance of leaving Sam somewhere just so the younger boy could get jumped again.

He could hear Sam’s shallow, almost wheezing, breaths and he didn’t like it. Dean really wanted to check out Sam’s ribs. They might be cracked or broken and Sam might not even realize it. Dean almost snorted just imagining the response he’d probably receive if he asked Sam to lift up his shirt.

He could always take Sam to Bobby. The younger boy had seemed to like the older man, and Sam would probably feel a lot more comfortable with Bobby checking him over than Dean anyway. Sam could also hang out and rest at the salvage yard and Dean wouldn’t have to worry about him being home alone. It was pretty obvious Sam’s parents weren’t even home considering the younger boy was about to take the public bus home. Dean could take Sam home again once Sam’s parents were home.

“Keep your money, Sam, and I’m not dropping you off at the god damn bus stop. Besides, McDonalds burgers suck. There’s still some fries left over from last night, and I can fry you up another burger if you’re hungry. Bobby can look you over too, he used to be a medic. I can take you home when your parents get home.” He spoke as though Sam had already agreed to come home with him.

* * *

Sam looked over at the muscular senior, confused. He had seen the way people gave him room, were scared of him, and he didn't really get it, but hell, he knew he was naive. Dean was definitely abrasive and he had one very intimidating glare. Fast to anger too as Sam had seen the night before. But he could be cool like he had been the night before when they were playing pool. He guessed if someone dared go up against the Eric Lancaster and his goons, that would be frightening to people who had bowed down to Eric maybe all their lives.

Okay, so maybe Dean scared him a little bit. He hadn't the night before because if it was between Dean and Eric, he would risk the unknown to the known. But now? Taking him home? Maybe Dean wasn't any better than Eric. Dean hadn't made any moves on him and hadn't tried to seduce him with cotton candy and apple pie…but those burgers, well, they were sure good. But so was the lobster and crab and stuff Eric had taken him out for. It also didn't sound like Dean was really giving him a choice and that kind of scared him, too. No one knew where he was or who he was with. At least with Eric, they had known he was with Eric…until he had run. Right now, he was in no condition to run fast or run far. Dean wasn't bodyguard, babysitter, or friend. Was he a molester though?

"…Is your dad home?" Sam asked.

* * *

Dean glanced briefly over at Sam before turning his attention back to the road. He decided to consider it a victory that the younger boy hadn’t completely freaked out on him, demanding to be let out of the car, or anything like that. Sam was actually looking at him too, even though he was looking at him with a hell of a lot of caution now. Dean had to grudgingly admit, he kind of missed last night when Sam hadn’t.

“He should be. Unless he’s out bringing some scrap to a client.” Dean replied casually. Again, deciding not to correct Sam’s assumption that Bobby was his father. He and the younger boy weren’t exactly on get to know you terms right now anyway, and he didn’t want to take the chance that the younger boy might freak out on him. He didn’t know how the fact that he was an orphan and Bobby was his guardian might freak Sam out, but you never knew. The fact that Dean didn’t have a family had certainly been a point of ridicule when he’d first come to that fucking school, though.

Sam might have been too... busy... to have heard the rumors about him, but he knew the younger boy would eventually. The one that he’d killed his parents, burned them to death, and that he and Bobby were demon worshipers was always a nice one to hear. Dean had broken the nose of the little bastard who had yelled that to him once, but he knew it was still circulating around, and probably worse. The way even the new students shied away from him, sometimes crossing themselves, it was pretty obvious.

When they got to the salvage yard, Dean mentally cursed when he saw that the tow truck was gone which meant Bobby was out. There was no telling when the older man would be back, but Dean didn’t say anything as he pulled the car into the garage and got out. Rumsfeld ran up to him, happily wagging his tail and trying to jump on him.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m home. Again. Now down you idgit.” Dean spoke to the dog that acted like a hyperactive puppy more than he should for his age, and scratched the animal’s ears. Then he reached down to grab the ball Rumsfeld had brought for him, earning him a slobbery kiss to the face, and he gave it a good throw when he straightened. Wiping off his face with the back of his hand as the dog took off after it.

“Come on.” Dean said when he finally turned his attention to Sam and led the younger boy into the house. “You can wait in the kitchen. Sit down.”

He went to fetch one of their bigger first aid kits. Sam probably wouldn’t want him to look at him, but Dean didn’t want to really leave it until Bobby got back since he had no idea when the older man would be coming home. He could be gone for minutes or hours. On his way back to the kitchen Dean opened the screen door to let Rumsfeld in, the dog following him into the kitchen and laying down in the middle of the room like he owned it. Chewing on his soggy ball and thumping his tail on the floor. Dean set the first aid kit down on the table and opened it up.

“Alright. Let me see your hand.” Dean finally said. The hand was pretty impersonal, right? Using the calmest tone of voice he could manage, usually the one Dean reserved for the people who were freaking out because some Zombie or Werewolf was after them. 

* * *

Sam spotted right away that Mr. Singer wasn't home. At least, the tow truck was gone. Last night Mr. Singer had gotten home close to dark and that was a good few hours off. He didn’t say anything. What was he suppose to say? Fuck off take me home? The senior was something of a conundrum. I've beaten up Eric and put his buds in the hospital. I'm not your friend. Here let me pick the lock so you can get in. Yeah let's play pool. I live at a junk yard and that makes me trash because your dad wouldn't be impressed. Get in and let me save you from those assholes about to jump you and give you another beating, or worse. Let me take you to my place and I'll feed you dinner.

Well, shit. If Dean was going to molest him like Eric had tried, it wasn't like he was in much shape to stop him. He could have demanded the senior take him home, but his parents wouldn't be in until seven or so, depending on traffic. His mom might be in earlier, depending. Still, that meant a good couple hours by himself. And Eric had keys to his house. He shuddered at the thought. He didn't have any homework to do because he left it all at school, not like he had really paid the teachers much mind today anyhow. So was he going to sit at home cowering, baseball bat across his lap, waiting for his parents to get home?

What ever this was, it still seemed like a better option than the alternative. Again.

When Dean turned off the ignition he slowly climbed out, every part of him aching. Despite his pain he laughed to himself at the dog. He almost laughed out loud when the dog swiped a slobbery tongue across Dean's face. Dean didn't seem to mind though.  
Following after the youth, he settled into the first chair. He hoped Dean's burgers were as good as his dad's. That burger had been the absolute best he had ever had.

Sam stared into the green eyes of the senior. They were veiled, any significant emotion buried. His voice was calm, almost soothing. Dean wasn't looking at him 'that way,' they way Eric had always looked at him. Sam had just thought it was friendship. Now he knew better. After meeting Dean's gaze steadily, studying him for a minute, he held out his hand.

"It's just bruised. He stepped on it. He didn't stomp on it. It's hardly even swollen," Sam said as Dean carefully examined each finger and gently probed at the bones in his hand. Sam flinched once, when Dean touched at a particularly tender spot, but otherwise just clenched his jaw against the pain.

* * *

Dean waited patiently for the younger boy to either give him his hand or tell him to go fuck off. When Sam finally held out his hand for examination, Dean didn’t say a word, he just took his time carefully examining the other boy’s knuckles and fingers. Sam was right, there was nothing broken, but some ice wouldn’t hurt to bring down the swelling and lessen the pain.

He went over to the freezer and took out a tray of ice cubes, dumped a couple into a clean towel, and brought it over to Sam.

“Use this on your hand.” Dean told the younger boy as he handed Sam the towel. It would give Sam something to do besides stare at him like Dean was going to rape him or something.

Seeing some blood on the back of Sam’s collar and in his hair, Dean decided to check the younger boy’s head next. The cut on the back of Sam’s skull didn’t need any stitches, obviously, since it wasn’t even bleeding anymore. But there was a good sized bump and he could see a few small pieces of glass still around the wound. Dean’s eyes darkened briefly and he was glad that he was behind the younger boy and Sam couldn’t see it. He reached into the first aid kit for some tweezers and picked out the remaining glass carefully then dabbed at the wound with some antibiotic cream when he was finished.

Next, Dean came around and knelt in front of Sam’s chair. He’d seen the way the younger boy was limping and wanted to check for any swelling in his knee and ankle. Dean wasn’t about to ask Sam to take off his pants though so the young man did his best to examine Sam through his clothes. Keeping his touch as professional and impersonal as possible and ignoring the way the younger boy was staring at him. Again, he didn’t feel anything out of place, and just Sam’s knee was swollen. Wrapping it wouldn’t hurt for support and helping to bring the swelling down though, so Dean grabbed one of the larger stretch bandages and did just that. It wouldn’t be as effective over the clothing like this, but Sam could put it on correctly later.

Now came the tricky part.

“I’m going to need you to lift up your shirt so I can check your ribs.” Dean finally said as casually as possible, looking up at Sam from where he knelt in front of him. He saw how Sam tensed at his suggestion and the mistrust in his eyes but Dean didn’t say anything. Keeping his expression as neutral as possible. After a long few minutes, Sam finally complied, but Dean couldn’t quite stop the frown that marred his face when he caught sight of the wicked bruising all around Sam’s stomach and chest. That had to hurt like a motherfucker.

“Alright.” He said soothingly, and reached out slowly to lay his hands on the younger boy’s ribs. He heard Sam’s sharp inhalation of breath and felt him tense, and Dean moved even slower. Carefully checking Sam’s ribs for any breaks or cracks. He didn’t feel any, and he didn’t think there was any internal bleeding or anything like that despite how bad the bruising looked, it didn’t look _that_ bad, thank god. Dean decided he was going to wrap up Sam’s ribs anyway, since it would probably make them feel a little better even if they weren’t broken.

Grabbing the gauze and more stretch bandages, he worked quickly and efficiently, having done the same thing for himself and Bobby more times than he could count. He could tell that Sam didn’t like having his arms around him when he had to reach around his back but the younger boy didn’t protest. When he was done, Dean pulled back and stood. Grabbing the tube of antibiotic cream and placing it on the table beside Sam.

“Here, put some of that on your face.” Dean told the younger boy and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He would have done it himself, but he figured Sam had enough of his personal space being violated for one day. After that, Dean went to the fridge and got out the stuff he’d need to make Sam that promised hamburger, throwing the left over fries in the oven to heat up. They wouldn’t be as good the second day, but they were still pretty good. 

* * *

It seemed like being a medic ran in the family and he couldn't help but wonder why Dean was so good at being one. Maybe he wanted to be one? Maybe he was in enough fights he had learned to be? Maybe his dad was a drunk that got in lots of fights? The possibilities were endless. He supposed it didn't matter. Dean seemed to know what he was doing. He didn't really like it when Dean was behind him, but when he saw Dean grab the tweezers he knew he hadn't gotten all the glass out. It would have been a bitch to do on his own if he wasn't able to wash it out.

He watched as Dean focused on his knee. The bandage wrap did seem to make it feel better. Kinda. It was scraped up under there and the pressure on it kind of hurt, but it still felt better in general.

He could tell Dean was very reluctant to ask him to remove his shirt. Dean looked like he expected Sam to bolt. Sam considered for a long time, but what difference did it make? If Dean was going to attack him, he was going to attack him. But he really didn't think those professional gentle hands and the young who used them had any ulterior motives. When Dean's help, he got his shirt off. Jesus that hurt.

He flinched and tensed at Dean's first touch. It hurt and well, there was that simmering lack of trust. Dean's poked and prodded and probed until Sam had just about had enough. Dean turned and grabbed the gauze and began wrapping it tightly around his ribs. He inhaled sharply the first couple times Dean pressed up against him to get the bandages around him. Absurdly, all he could think was that Dean smelled kinda nice and he wondered what cologne he wore.

Dean was finally done after handing him the antibiotic cream and he was glad Dean at least let him do that himself. Sam twisted slowly and watched as Dean got a burger started for him.

"Could I get some water or something?" Sam asked then added, "It's good to know you're at least willing to be my medic." He smirked at Dean to ease the sting of his words. "Oh, and my cook." Letting his gaze wander around the kitchen he asked, "Your family take in whipped strays often, or am I just more pathetic than most?"

 

* * *

“Sure.” Dean answered, leaving the pan on the stove to heat up while he got a glass and went to the fridge for the pitcher of cold water they kept in there. He snorted softly at Sam’s comment about him agreeing to be his medic and cook. He almost wanted to tell the younger boy not to get used to it, but Dean didn’t really want to break the shaky truce they seemed to have found. He brought the glass over to Sam and set it on the table next to the younger boy and nodded towards the still open first aid kit.

“There are a few different painkillers in there if you want something. Feel free to pick your poison. Though I wouldn’t take anything too strong.” He told the younger boy before he returned to the counter. Slapping the hamburger into more or less a patty and throwing it onto the heated pan. He opened the counter above the stove and got out the salt, pepper, and other stuff he usually threw on his burgers.

“There’s also tea, soda, and beer in the fridge if you want something else later. Help yourself.” Dean said over his shoulder while he cooked, and then after a moment, put together another hamburger patty for himself. He was hungry too damn it.

Sam’s question made him pause for a second however. His mind transporting him back not so many years ago, just after Bobby had managed to coax him out of the wrecked car in his lot Dean had taken shelter in from the snow. When he’d been sitting in that chair much like Sam was now, shivering even under the warm blanket the older man had wrapped around his shoulders. After Bobby had finished tending to his various cuts, scrapes, and bruises the older man had made him some instant cocoa and then made him dinner. The first thing he’d put into his stomach in days...

“Sometimes.” Dean finally answered and went back to what he was doing. “And you’re not pathetic.”

* * *

"Yeah, I am. Pathetically naïve and stupid."

Sam poked through the first aid kit. Odd if his dad used to be a medic that so many things had far distant expiration dates. And bags of saline? And IV stuff? And yeah, all sorts of pain killers. Sam opted for a low prescription does of Tylenol. He figured it was that, or pop about six of the over the counter stuff which was also in there. He frowned a little when he read the name on the 'script. Dean Winchester. Not Singer.

What did that mean? Maybe Dean's parents were divorced and he had been adopted by his stepfather, but came to live with Bobby, his real father. Maybe his stepfather was paying for school? Though really, he thought the car restoration business probably paid pretty good. He didn't particularly like the alternative of why Dean might have a different name from Bobby. Maybe Bobby and him…were lovers? That seemed kind of far-fetched, Dean was a good looking guy and Bobby was, well okay he supposed, but a lot older than Dean. Maybe the two men ran more than restored cars. Maybe they had other side businesses. Drugs or weapons or…porn.

Sam had no idea if he was letting his imagination run away with him, or if he should be the one running. Dean had said he was going to take him home once Sam's parents got in.

"Going to go to the restroom," Sam said and gingerly got to his feet, setting the ice pack aside. He seemed to hurt worse and worse as time passed. Not that he was really surprised. He limped his way to the bathroom that he had taken a shower in—just the night before? Thinking back, he couldn't believe he had actually done that. That was stupid and brazen of him. Hell, he was ready to use the toothbrush sitting there and scrub out his mouth the night before.

As he passed through the living room, he let his eyes slide over the books that were stacked everywhere, practically falling off shelves and in tall haphazard piles on the desk. He also saw a knife on the desk. It was too shiny to be steel, it just didn't have the right sheen. It looked like maybe it was silver. Maybe they were new age witches? Which would make the knife an athame if he remembered right. He noticed discreet symbols drawn here and there on the walls, and glancing over at the doorway, saw a white crystalline substance in a thin line at the threshold.

He made it to the bathroom finally and took care of business, washing his hands afterwards and looking at himself in the mirror. His parents were going to freak when they saw it.

As he limped back toward the kitchen he couldn't help but be drawn to peruse some of the old books on one of the bookshelves. Demonology. Witches. Werewolves. Bloody-bones. A variety of ghost books and local histories. Religious books of all natures, running from Catholic to Buddhism to anything you could thing of. Okay, Dean and his dad(?) were definitely into the occult. But the age of a lot of these books…Sam just didn't know what to make of it. He limped around Rumsfeld and returned to his seat. He closed up the first aid kit and moved it aside and drank from his water as he watched Dean.

"Your Dad has an impressive library," Sam finally said.

 

* * *

Dean decided not to say anything to the younger boy’s words. Even though he agreed that Sam was naïve he certainly didn’t think that the younger boy was stupid. But he supposed Sam wouldn’t be interested in hearing something like that from him. It wasn’t like they were on sharing and caring terms after all.

So Dean simply concentrated on finishing up the burgers. That was nice and simple. He nodded slightly when Sam said he was going to the bathroom.

While Sam was gone Dean finished frying up the burgers and throwing a couple of slices of cheese on them. Since Sam had liked so much the way the burgers had been made last night he fixed them up on the buns exactly the same way, onions and all.

When Sam came back, he brought the plates over to the table and set one of them down in front of the younger boy. He frowned a little when Sam mentioned his ‘dads’ library. No, Sam wasn’t stupid, and it was too much to hope that the younger boy wouldn’t have noticed eventually all the books that Bobby owned. Not to mention their subjects.

He went back to the oven for the fries.

“Yeah, he collects them. Some of them are pretty old and expensive.” Dean left the implied ‘so hands off’ unsaid as he dumped the heated up fries onto another plate and brought it over to the table as well. Dropping into the chair across from Sam and started in on his burger. 

* * *

Sam had to bite back the comment that based on all the notes and journals he saw, Dean's dad used them, too. He began to eat the burger, even though with his bruised up face it kind of hurt. The burger was just as good as the night before though, maybe even better.

He couldn't hold back the small snort of laughter. "D'you realize the last time I ate, it was the burger here last night? I think this one's even better, but then I'm even hungrier than I was last night."

The salt burned in the split in his lip, but he didn't really care. He tried to eat with some manners, but it was all so good and he hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he started eating. He wanted to just scarf it all down. After pouring a puddle of ketchup onto his plate, he slid half the French fries onto his plate and dipped one in the ketchup. He set the plate back within Dean's reach.

He had a lot of questions he wanted to ask Dean but he was afraid he might piss off the young man and he honestly didn't want to have to walk or call his parents. Or discover one of his less savory imaginings about Dean was correct.

"So what college are you wanting to go to?" Sam finally asked, deciding that was probably a fairly safe subject. He wouldn't be at Chalmers for kicks so he must have designs on a good college.

* * *

Dean hadn’t really realized it until Sam mentioned it that last night’s burger was the last thing he had eaten as well. Between waking up with the hangover this morning and missing lunch because of damned detention, he hadn’t eaten all day either. Well, he was glad that Sam liked the burger anyway, even if he implied he only liked it because he was probably starving right now.

He ate with a lot less care than Sam did. Taking large bites of his burger not really caring when he got a bit of ketchup and grease smeared on the corner of his mouth, merely licking it away rather than grabbing a napkin. By contrast, the younger boy was very neat. He wondered if Sam was always this careful when he ate or if it was because Sam probably couldn’t open his mouth as wide because of his bruised face. Probably both.

Dean snatched up a few of the warm fries and stuffed them into his mouth. They were still pretty damned good, even though they’d been better last night. He could feel eyes on him and heard a soft whimper from the floor and Dean turned his attention to Rumsfeld. The dog immediately started thumping his tail against the floor and looking at him hopefully. Dean tossed the dog a fry that the animal easily caught mid air.

Sam’s question surprised him a little and he looked at the younger boy with a raised eyebrow before shaking his head. College? He wouldn’t even _be_ in school now if Bobby and the state didn’t say he had to be.

“I’m not.” 

* * *

Dean was definitely an 'enthusiastic' eater. When Dean tossed the fry into the air, Sam almost laughed at the dog. With the way the dog caught it, it must be a common thing between Dean and Rumsfeld. He had always wanted a pet, but his mom didn't like dogs or cats and his dad was allergic anyhow.

He was surprised, hell, shocked when Dean said he wasn't going to college. Why would you go to a prep school if you weren't preparing for college? And Chalmers was one of the very best. Graduates went to Harvard and MIT and Stanford and West Point. Chalmers could make it easier to get into any selective college. The more impressive the college, the more important it was to have a prep school like Chalmers on your records. The seniors did learn things like business and economics and investing and such. Maybe it was to help Dean take over the family business. Or maybe Mr. Singer was one of those closet millionaires and wanted Dean to be able to end one himself. Maybe it was a family thing that he was expected to attend Chalmers.

He took another bite of his hamburger as he contemplated Dean's answer. "College doesn't matter so long as you love what you're doing," he said firmly and meant it. "I want to be a lawyer so I need to go to college. I know Chalmers has some good business classes, college level stuff. Are you going there because of that? Are you sticking with your dad's business and doing car restoration?" It sort of made sense. Dean could get some decent business background and not have to mess with all intro classes college made you go through if you weren't ever really going to use them. Still, it seemed a pretty pricey route to go.

* * *

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam as the younger boy fired off one question after another at him. Apparently Sam was feeling comfortable enough around him again to babble, and Dean was beginning to wonder whether or not that was a good thing.

He wasn’t all that surprised when the younger boy admitted he wanted to become a lawyer. He certainly had the talking and asking tons of meaningless questions part of that down.

Dean snorted softly when Sam asked him if he were going there to take over Bobby’s ‘business’ one day. The family business… he supposed that wasn’t so far from the truth, though he certainly wasn’t going to that god damned school for that.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Sam. This is a salvage yard. The scrap out in the yard is useful for some restoration, but that’s hardly our main income flow. We recycle what we can, and sell the rest for scrap. That’s pretty much it. Plain and simple. I’ve been doing it since I was fourteen. It’s hardly brain science.” The young man said, popping the last of the cheeseburger into his mouth and standing. He brought his plate to the sink and stacked it there with the others. He’d have to wash them later. Then he grabbed a towel and wiped off his face.

“I’ve got to get to work. There’s a couch and TV in the living room, though we don’t get cable. You can lay down in there if you want. Just don’t touch anything.” He told the younger boy, then went to his room to change clothes and went outside. He whistled for Rumsfeld on the way out and the dog got up and followed him into the yard. 

* * *

Sam was just finishing when Dean left in his 'work' clothes, grimy jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel. The dog grabbed the ball and carried it with him, his tail held high. San would have offered to help, but he knew he would be more of a hindrance than anything. The least he could do was the dishes though, so he ran the water, put the condiments back in the fridge, and washed the dishes and wiped down the stove and table. His hand was feeling better at least and the Tylenol seemed to have helped a lot.

There were still a few hours left before his parents would be home so he wandered into the den. He looked at the couch and TV, but he wasn't really in the mood for listening to drabble. Since Dean was outside, he decided to explore the house, which he knew he probably shouldn't do, but honestly he wanted to put his mind at ease about some of his contemplation about Dean and Bobby.

Beside the bathroom was a utility room with a washer and dryer. There was another room off the den, and it was stuffed with more books, papers, maps, and newspaper articles. He found the door leading to the basement and after chewing on his lips a minute, decided that would be a pretty likely place for 'bad' things if there were any.

His knee wasn't really happy, but he hopped down the stairs. It was a finished basement, though only in the sense it had a concrete floor and the stone walls were painted a pale yellow, or a white that had yellowed with age, he wasn't sure. The basement was big, running underneath the whole house. Down there he found some beautiful black boxes inlaid with silver designs. He found the raw lumber and piles of silver coils and a couple gold coils of wire. Bags of salt were stacked against one wall, odd since there was no water softener around. The furnace and water heater were there as were several workshop type machines. He found some disassembled guns and shotgun shells and molds for making bullets. A handful of silver bullets were scattered on the work bench. There were some knives, swords, and even some explosives. He saw a hallway that led down more stairs. He hurried down them and found what was surely a bomb shelter, though there were drawings on the floor, including a pentagram at the threshold and a white substance on the walls that looked like rust stained iron. He hoped it was rust and not dried blood. Looking up, a fan spun slowly, a pentagram for its grill. Okay, this he did not like. He did not like it all. It could all too easily be a cell. He hurried back up both sets of stairs and to the window of the back door. He could see Dean in the distance, sorting through stacks of junk.

He went up the stairs leading to the second story. There were three rooms and a hall closet. One room was obviously used for storage. One was likely Bobby's room, the picture of a pretty dark haired woman at the bedside. The last room was obviously Dean's. He wouldn't want a stranger going into his room so he just stood at the door. The bed was made, which sort of surprised him. On the walls were a couple posters of some rock bands and classic cars, a stereo system that looked a little old but functional, a desk and chair, a trunk at the foot of his bed, and that was about it. On the desk was a frame with two pictures, looking like they had come from yearbooks. He tread quickly over to them. Mary Campbell and John Winchester. So Winchester was Dean's last name. He hurried back downstairs before his skulking was discovered.

By this time, his knee was really hurting. That bomb shelter with the pentagrams downstairs, that had unnerved him. Not to mention all the weapons and tools in the basement. He appraised the books and their subject matter with a new eye. Looking over the desk, there were all sorts of notes and newspaper articles about deaths of all sorts. Burnings, maulings, missing people, serial killings, all sorts of things, even haunted houses. Okay, Sam was officially freaking out at this point. He was beginning to think Eric might be the lesser of the two evils. Eric just wanted to fuck him. Dean and Bobby? He wasn't sure, but wondered if they were behind any of the deaths, keeping a macabre record of them. With all the books of religion and demons and things that went bump in the night…no, he didn't want to know any more. He also didn't want to know what would happen to him if the men found out he had checked out the house. Including the basement. He got himself some water and a bag of ice for his knee, then went to sit on the glider on the front porch. He couldn't see Dean from there but he didn't care. He just wanted out of that house. He could get Dean to take him home in an hour. At least, he hoped Dean would still take him home. He really didn't want to see that bomb shelter or cell or whatever it was, again.

* * *

As Dean worked he really didn’t think about the other boy who was in his home, he just went about his daily tasks as normal. Sorting out the usable parts from a few junked cars that had come in this week and noting which ones would be good for salvage and which would go straight into the scrap piles to be crushed.

A few clients came by and he helped them find some parts they needed out in the yard. He talked with one of them for a long time about one of the restorations he was doing and he told the man he would gladly do some work for him once he completed one of his previous projects. Another client bought the frame for an old mustang and Dean arranged to have it delivered tomorrow to the man’s house. All in all it was a pretty decent day and he figured Bobby would be pleased.

After a couple of hours, Dean took a break and threw the ball for Rumsfeld for a little while. He was a little surprised when he glanced back at the house that he saw Sam sitting out on the porch, but he simply shrugged to himself and went back to work.

He spent another hour or so under the hood of one of his restorations, putting the finishing touches on the engine and when he was done he grabbed the keys and went to sit in the driver’s seat. She turned over perfectly and purred like a dream. Dean smiled, pleased with himself and revved the engine a few times before shutting her off again.

Dean heard Rumsfeld bark and he looked up to see Bobby’s tow truck pulling in down the gravel driveway. He checked his watch and decided he’d ask Sam if he was ready to go home now, it was getting late and one of his parents were surely home by now.

“Hey, Bobby!” Dean called to the older man in greeting as he got out of the car and wiped his hands off on a grease stained towel and started putting his tools away. 

* * *

It took about an hour for Sam to calm down from letting his mind go places he didn't want it to go. Dean had been nothing but considerate and he had been fed twice by the two now. Dean could have just driven on by and let him get beat up again. So if they wanted to do stuff late at night praying to Beelzebub or whatever, it was none of his business. Maybe that bomb shelter was their church or something. He really didn't think they were serial killers, but if they were, well they didn't seem to be doing it around here. He'd simply take their help at face value, but he was definitely going to start asking around school to find out more about Dean Winchester.

Forcing himself to put those thoughts aside he decided it was kind of nice out here. The sounds of traffic were a little distant, but not so much so to make you feel all alone. There were some nice trees around the place and birds flitted from branch to branch and a squirrel chattered now and again. That comforted him in an odd way. Furry critters and birds just seemed out of place if the men were the spawn of hell or something. Sam kind of giggled at that. Dean, in his bad ass black Impala, spending the nights terrorizing the roads, eyes glowing all red, looking for retribution. Maybe he would find Eric in his pretty Ferrari and flatten him into a road pancake.

Sam went in for water once more and took some more Tylenol. He really should call his parents and tell them where he was, but he was a little pissed at them. When they saw the condition he was in it was pretty unlikely, they were going to rip him a new asshole for not calling.

Time melted away as he sat on the porch and let his mind wander. Lost in thought he was a little startled when he heard a car start and looked over to see Dean in the car he had been restoring. The engine purred like a happy cat getting its ears scratched. At the same time he saw Bobby's tow truck coming up the drive. He guessed since Dean started up the car he was done and Sam could ask him to take him home now.

Bobby pulled the tow truck to a stop in front of the porch. He got one look at the kid from the night before and scowled. The kid looked like he'd gotten into a fight at school. He glanced toward his ward. Dean must have stepped in. Dean was a good kid, really he was, just a little withdrawn and antisocial. He was pleased that Dean had apparently stopped to help Sam.

"What happened to you, kid? Run into a wall?" Bobby asked.

Sam tried to smile but it hurt too much. "Mostly fists. One wall. They were getting ready to jump me again as I walked to the bus stop, but Dean picked me up and brought me here. I hope that's okay."

"Well of course it's okay! This all because of yesterday? Because of that…'hazing prank,'" he asked, making it perfectly clear he knew it wasn't. He hadn't had a chance to ask Dean about it because Dean had come in late and then got up late with his hang over.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"You want to talk about it?" Bobby asked, sitting down on the glider next to the young man.

Sam shrugged and immediately regretted it. "I pissed off a senior, a guy named Eric Lancaster. He'd been sort of looking out for me. Now he's not. Simple as that. Some of the guys were going to pound on me again when I was walking to the bus stop after school. Dean picked me up and brought me here cause he said you used to be a medic. You weren't here so he patched me up and fed me a burger. I've pretty much been sitting out here on the porch since then while Dean worked."

Bobby scowled when Sam mentioned Lancaster. Not a person to piss off. "If you keep having trouble, you call me. I've got a little sway at that school. Might be able to help. No promises, but I might."

"Is that…is that how you can afford to send Dean there?"

Bobby chuckled. "Something like that. I know it's not easy on him there but he may need that someday and it'll certainly help him get a job if what he wants to do doesn't pan out."

"Restoring old cars?"

Bobby gave a small smile and clapped the boy on the knee. "More or less. Well, let's get you on home. You're probably sick to death of staring at this junk yard."

"It's kinda nice, actually," Sam admitted. "But yeah, my parents will start worrying soon if I don't show up soon." Bobby seemed so down to earth, Sam almost felt guilty for his earlier thoughts. There was surely a better explanation, but he wasn't about to ask for clarification of the bomb shelter and books and newspaper articles. He gave Dean a small nod when the young man approached. "Is it all right if you take me home now? Oh, I did up the dishes since you cooked. I didn't know where they went so I just left them in the rack to dry."

 

* * *

Dean finished putting his tools away and made his way to the front porch where Bobby was sitting down on the glider with Sam. It was pretty obvious they were talking, though what about, Dean could only guess. Looked like Sam was pretty comfortable around Bobby too, which didn’t really surprise Dean one bit. After all, when Bobby took him in the older man had been the one person to make him feel genuinely… safe… for the first time in his life.

“Sure.” He told Sam when the younger boy asked if he’d drive him home now, though Dean was more than a bit surprised when Sam said he’d done the dishes in the kitchen sink. He certainly hadn’t expected anything of the sort and it probably couldn’t have been comfortable for the younger boy standing at the sink with his hurt knee and washing dishes with his bruised up hand.

He really had no idea why Sam had felt the need to do that. Did the younger boy think of it as some kind of payment for picking him up and feeding him?

“You didn’t have to do that.” Dean finally said as he walked up the porch steps and into the house. “Lemme just grab my keys.”

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed his keys off the counter, shaking his head a little at the stack of dishes drying on the rack, before returning outside. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

A tiny part of Sam was relieved when Dean said he would take Sam home. He was surely letting his imagination get the best of him earlier. Both men really seemed nice, even if Dean was kind of brusque. Of course, Eric had seemed cool as hell until yesterday. Sam sat aside the bag of ice and pushed himself to his feet. His breath hissed as he put weight on his knee. He would soak it tonight. Really, he suspected it was just badly bruised. Stairs killed it, but otherwise, once he started walking, the knee seemed to loosen up.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Singer," Sam said.

"It's Bobby. Yer making me feel old calling me Mr. Singer. That was my daddy, not me. Yer welcome to stop by anytime you get a hankering, Sam."

"Thank you, sir, uh Bobby," Sam looked a little self-conscious calling him by his first name.

He hopped down the stairs then limped toward the garage, following after Dean. He settled into the Impala's passenger seat. He didn't fasten his seat belt, but he also didn't plaster himself upside the door. When Dean started the car and the radio was blaring, Sam winced and turned it down just a little. The senior had offered that Sam could turn it down if he wanted to. He didn't turn it down as far as he would have liked, but enough that he could talk to Dean without shouting. Dean didn't really seem to be one for small talk. Sam felt a little awkward, sitting there and not talking but any topic that came to mind was either about school or wondering about why Dean's last name wasn't Singer. He decided it might be best just to stay quiet, though as they got closer to his house Sam did ask, "Do you remember how to get there okay?"

* * *

Dean was glad that the younger boy seemed a lot more at ease this time when he got into his car. At least he didn’t plaster himself up against the door like he was about to jump out at any moment. Though that might only have to do with the fact he was taking Sam home now, rather than the other boy feeling more at ease around him. Who knew?

Apparently Sam felt at ease enough to turn down his music, something Dean normally would have had a few choice words about. But considering he had given Sam permission before, he couldn’t really complain now. Well, he supposed he could, but he wouldn’t.

He wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not Sam didn’t say anything to him after turning down his radio. The way the younger boy liked to babble on and ask questions, he’d been kind of expecting it. But Sam stayed quiet. Only asking him if he remembered the way back to his house.

“I remember.” He told Sam, and then they were both silent the rest of the way to the younger boy’s home. When they finally got there, Dean’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel and his eyes narrowed when he saw the red Ferrari parked in Sam’s driveway. 

* * *

Paling, Sam inhaled sharply when he saw Eric was at his house, which of course only hurt his ribs. Fuck. He should have called his parents. Odds were good that they called Eric when Sam wasn't home when they got home. It was logical. Eric and Sam had been 'best friends' since he had started at the school and they had been hanging out together since practically day one. He hadn't told his father what had really happened, only that Eric had wanted him to do something he didn't want to and that Eric hit him. His father told him to patch things up. Yeah, right. Who knew what lies Eric had told them at this point. Besides, his father had made it perfectly clear he expected Sam to do whatever it took to get back on Eric's good side. Then again, wait until he saw the condition he was in thanks to Eric and his friends.

So now what the hell was he supposed to do?

He glanced over at Dean and saw Dean wasn't any happier about Eric being there than he was. But Dean hated Eric, so he might react that way any time he saw the Ferrari.

"Thanks for helping me today," Sam said quietly when Dean pulled the car up to his house. "If I can ever do anything for you, just ask. See you around."

Sam opened up the car door, locked it, and shut it, limping up toward the front door of his house.

* * *

Dean looked over at Sam when he heard the younger boy’s sharp inhalation. The other boy had gone about as white as a sheet, which of course only made the bruises on his face more prominent. He wondered how many of those bruises and cuts Eric himself had given Sam and how many had been given on Eric’s orders.

As he pulled his car up to the curb in front of the younger boy’s house he couldn’t help but marvel at the fucking nerve the bastard had showing up at Sam’s house like this. What lies had the little fucker already been spinning for Sam’s parents to explain the younger boy’s condition? Lies that Sam’s parents would probably be all too eager to believe. Just like the teachers at school turned a blind eye when their pockets were being stuffed with hundred dollar bills…

When Dean glanced over at Sam again as the younger boy was getting out of the car, Sam looked like he was walking to the gallows instead of his house. His home where he _should_ have been safe. Hell, he’d been safer back at the junk yard with him and Bobby.

Dean wasn’t sure what made him get out of the car instead of just driving away. It really wasn’t his problem, and Sam might not even want him to get any further involved. But then again it hadn’t been his problem either when he’d seen Sam on the sidewalk and stopped his car. But he still had. As Dean fell into step beside the younger boy he decided if Sam wanted him gone, then he could say so and Dean would leave. Until then, he wasn’t leaving until Eric was gone. 

* * *

Sam was shocked to hear the growling Impala turn silent and the taller senior join him on the walk to the doorway. He glanced up at Dean, unsure if it was a good idea or a bad idea that he was coming along. He had to admit he felt a little less like he was walking into enemy territory all by himself.

The door was unlocked and he pushed it open. "Mom, Dad, I'm home!" he called out.

"Samuel!" his father yelled, coming to the doorway that led from the small foyer into the living room. "Where have you been? My God, what happened to you?"

"Dad, you remember Dean from last night. I was in a couple fights at school to today. He kept me from getting jumped as I was walking to the bus stop. I went to his house and he patched me up. I'm sorry I didn't call. I lost track of time, kinda dozed off. Dean didn't realize I didn't call you. When Dean finished working on the car he's restoring, he came and got me. I should have called you then, but it was only fifteen minutes or so of a drive and I just wanted to get home."

His father motioned both Sam and Dean into the living room. Eric sat on the couch beside Sam's mother, drinking a coke. "What were you fighting about?" Jim asked. His eyes darted to the tall youth behind his son, not quite sure what to make of Dean being with Sam again, and Sam again being hurt.

Keiko hurried to stand by her husband, taking in her son's bruised face, bruised hand, and wrapped knee. "When you weren't home, we called Eric, thinking you were with him. You've had us worried half to death and Eric's had all his friends out looking for you."

"I'll bet he has," Sam said, keeping his voice level. "Eric, I left my book bag in your car yesterday. Would you mind getting it from behind the seat where I left it before… we had our disagreement." Sam wasn't sure he would have been able to keep so calm if Dean wasn't standing there behind him.

 

* * *

Since Sam didn’t tell him to get lost, Dean followed the younger boy into his house. He stood close to Sam in the hallway, though not so close that he looked like he was crowding him or anything. Not that he thought Eric would be dumb enough to try anything with Sam’s parents here. But that didn’t mean the other senior might not try to intimidate Sam, however subtly, into making the younger boy do what he wanted.

When Sam’s father came out of the living room area and took one look at his Son, Dean half expected the older man to immediately blame him for Sam’s appearance. He kept his expression neutral when Sam’s father’s gaze turned to him, and while there was confusion Dean didn’t see any accusation in the older man’s eyes. Yet anyway.

He followed Sam into the living room, again, standing close to Sam. Dean narrowed his eyes slightly at Eric sitting in Sam’s living room. The other young man definitely looked surprised for a moment to see him with Sam and his polite mask slipped for a fraction of a second into a scowl. Of course it was gone almost before it appeared, Sam’s parents probably wouldn’t have even seen it had their attention not been focused on their son, quickly shifting back to a fake worried expression as his eyes turned on Sam.

“I brought it with me when your parents called, its up in your room. I heard about what happened at school today. I wish you’d come to me.” Eric replied, giving Sam a look of both sympathy and regret that would make any actor proud.

Eric’s eyes flickered briefly to Dean Winchester. Eric didn’t know how the hell Sam had ended up with the freak Winchester standing behind him like some fucking junk yard guard dog but he was definitely going to put a stop to it.

“How about I come pick you up tomorrow and we can talk and work things out?”

* * *

Sam caught the flash of anger that crossed Eric's face when he saw Dean was with him. He had probably expected Sam to come dragging in, having been hiding out somewhere or something, and then Eric would play all sympathetic friend. He was suddenly so glad Dean had come in with him. He was relieved he got his books back though he wouldn't be shocked to find them torn up, or damaged, or a nasty note or something in there. But since Eric wouldn't know if his parents might go through the backpack, everything was probably safe and intact.

Sam felt absolute panic fill him when Eric made his offer and his mind scrambled for a response.

"I'm sorry, Eric," Sam said, praying Dean wasn’t going to kill him for this, "but Dean's going to pick me up because we're getting together for a study session before school. And tomorrow afternoon, if he has the time, he's going to show me some stuff about restoring cars." He glanced at his father. "I thought maybe you and I might be able to spend an hour or two on the weekends working on your Mustang."

Well, Dean hadn't denied him his lie, thank God. He turned back to Eric, his voice as sincere as he could manage. "Thanks a lot for bringing me my books. As for what happened in school today, I know you could have probably put a stop to it, but I thought I could handle it. I guess I pissed someone off, but I'm sure whoever it is, you can keep them from bothering me again. With the sort of people you know, I just know you won't let it happen again. I can even tell you exactly who gave me trouble today if you want." He gave a pointed look to Eric, daring him to make him start listing names. "I appreciate you siccing all your friends out hunting for me…when my parents called and told you I wasn't home yet." He gave Eric what smile he could manage, considering his fat lip and bruises.

* * *

Eric’s eyes narrowed a fraction and his gaze flickered to Dean over Sam’s shoulder. Perhaps he thought Dean was going to somehow deny Sam’s claims that the younger boy had already made previous arrangements with him.

Maybe if the circumstances had been a little different Dean might have said something. He might have been more than a little pissed off that Sam was dragging him into the middle of this without even asking him first. But considering everything… and the fact that Dean had followed Sam inside of his own free will, the younger boy hadn’t even asked him for that… he was only mildly annoyed.

Even that annoyance faded quickly into smug satisfaction knowing just how pissed Eric must be right now at his involvement. He could see how hard it was for the bastard to reign in his anger and keep it from showing in front of Sam’s parents. Dean almost wished Eric would snap and try something, just give him one excuse to kick the punk’s ass right here and now, show everyone the _real_ Eric Lancaster.

But of course Eric had far too much experience to let himself slip up now when it could cost him, and instead of anger, all his expression showed was disappointment… even hurt… and Dean barely kept himself from gagging.

“Of course, I’ll do what I can, Sam. But I can’t do anything if you piss off the wrong people again. If you were smart, you wouldn’t piss them off in the first place.” Eric said evenly. “When you’re ready to talk, let me know.”

With that, Eric turned to Sam’s parents with a polite smile.

“Thank you for your hospitality as always Mr. and Mrs. Colt. I hope you all will still be attending my parent’s party this weekend. I should probably be going.” Eric said, and then turned to Sam one more time before heading to the door. “See you at school, Sammy.”

* * *

Sam let disappointment color his own voice. “Gosh, Eric, I didn’t think there was anyone at school who didn’t respect you and listen to you. You’re so popular. And I heard you hurt your leg. I hope it’s okay.” Sam blinked innocently at him. “I’ll keep that in mind. You’ve done some just…unbelievable…things for me. Stuff I’ll never forget. Ever.”

Jim smiled at Eric. “Thank you for trying to look after Sam. Anything you can do for him is really appreciated. We wouldn’t miss the party. And neither would Sam. We’ll all be there.”

Sam nearly choked when his father promised he would be there too. How was he going to avoid Eric? The parents would certainly shoo the teens off to themselves. Maybe he could come up with some excuse, a big exam or something, that he had to study for. “Yeah, see you,” Sam said to Eric.

After watching Eric leave, he glanced up at Dean with apology in his eyes. Dean didn’t ask to get involved in this mess. At least his parents would already be gone by the time he needed to head out to catch the bus, so Dean didn’t have to actually show up. Already he had been enough of an inconvenience to the teen.

“Can I get you a Coke or something before you go?” Sam asked Dean and added hastily, “you’re welcome to stay, but I don’t think I’m really up to a game of pool. We could sit out back and talk if you want. We’ve got a little waterfall thing out there.”

Sam’s dad interceded. “I think you need to get some rest, Sammy.” Jim gave Dean a grateful smile. “I don’t mean to chase you off, but I need to look after Sam. Thanks for taking care of my son. Let me get you one for the road at least. Mountain Dew? Coke? We’ve got some of that high end real root beer if you like root beer.” 

* * *

Dean frowned at the way Sam was obviously baiting Eric. Well, obviously to him, though his parents were probably oblivious. He had to admit it, Sam had balls. Especially since the younger boy had the shit kicked out of him all day long for pissing off Eric in the first place. At the same time, considering he had the shit kicked out of him all day long, Dean couldn’t help but wonder if the younger boy was a little stupid or suicidal for pissing off Eric even more than he already was.

Dean watched Eric leave, not sure he wanted to imagine just what the other boy was going to have in store for Sam tomorrow. If Sam thought that what had happened today was the worst thing that could happen to him…

He looked at Sam, saw the apology in the younger boy’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Hell, what could he say? Before Dean could even really contemplate Sam’s offer of a drink and to stick around for a while, such as why the younger boy would even want him to since his parents were here and Eric was gone, Sam’s father was basically throwing him out. Sure the older man was pretty polite about it, but that’s still what it amounted to.

Dean wondered briefly if he was ‘upper’ class like Eric instead of poor white trash if Sam’s father would still be asking him to leave so Sam could rest. It didn’t matter he supposed.

He nodded slightly at the older man’s offer of thanks for helping Sam, which at least seamed genuine, however he shook his head at his offer of anything ‘for the road’.

“No thanks. Later, Sam.” Dean said and headed for the door. 

* * *

Keiko spoke up before Dean had hardly turned. “Dean, I was wondering if you have a portfolio of the cars you restore? Sam wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think you did. If you don’t but you have pictures, bring them by and I would be happy to design a portfolio for you that you can show to potential clients. If you don’t have pictures, you should start taking some and I could give you some advice about what pictures to take.” She smiled at him. “If nothing else it’s nice down the road to look back on the work you’ve done. And if any of your clients show their cars, any awards they’ve won would be excellent factoids to include.” She approached him and craned her head back to look up at the youth who topped her by almost a foot. She rested a hand lightly on his arm. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for Sam.” After giving his arm a squeeze she smiled fondly at him and let him go.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Sam said to Dean.

“Don’t dally, Samuel,” Jim said. “I want you back in here, off that knee and ice put on your bruises.” He gave Dean a nod. “You’re welcome here any time Dean. Sunday we’re grilling barbque chicken, nothing fancy, if you and your family would like to come by. Just let Sam know by Friday so we can pick up enough food.” With that, Jim headed to the kitchen to start filling up bags of ice.

Stepping out the front door, Sam saw that Eric’s car was already out of sight, though the rumble of its engine was still just barely audible. Once outside, Sam gave a soft sigh. “I’m really sorry. I kind of freaked when Eric said he was going to pick me up. My dad wouldn’t have let me say ‘no.’ He wants me to make nice with Eric, be his friend again. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. The last thing you need is having Eric and his crew harassing you. And you don’t have to pick me up. Both my parents leave before I have to leave to get to the bus stop.” He sighed again. “Tomorrow is so going to suck worse than today. And Saturday’s party,” Sam shuddered, “Hadn’t counted on that. Saturday is just going to be swell. Maybe I’ll get lucky and break my leg or something. Or one of Eric’s hitmen will have done it for me.” 

* * *

Dean stopped when Sam’s mother spoke and raised an eyebrow when she asked him if he had a ‘portfolio’ of the work he’d done. He didn’t know whether to feel more confused or surprised. Aside from the fact that he didn’t understand why Sam would have talked to his mother about him in the first place, it was a little out of the blue.

He didn’t know why she was offering the advice or help to put one together for him. What the hell did it matter to her whether or not he kept a record of his work? It wasn’t any of their business. He certainly hadn’t asked for the advice, or the help.

He supposed it was a… nice offer… or whatever. But he certainly wouldn’t be taking her up on it. It wasn’t like he planned on making a living off of ‘restoring cars’, as Sam kept putting it. That was a hobby more than anything else. A hobby that just happened to bring in some extra cash, but that was about it. Dean wondered briefly what Sam’s parents would think if he told them what his _real_ job was. Not working in Bobby’s salvage yard. But hunting ghosts, monsters, and whatever else that went bump in the night.

That would certainly make an interesting ‘portfolio’. Grave digging, beheading zombies… maybe he could ask Bobby to take polaroids…

“Sure.” He simply said to her offer of thanks and started for the door again. Well, at least he now knew where Sam got his tendency to ramble on. Dean didn’t say anything to Sam’s offer to walk him to his car or his father’s insistence that he could stop by anytime. He wouldn’t be back.

Dean merely shrugged at Sam’s offer of an apology. He already knew why Sam had done it, he didn’t need to explain.

“Fine.” He replied when Sam said that he didn’t need to come pick him up in the morning. Strangely enough, he hadn’t even considered not doing it. But if Sam didn’t want him to, he wouldn’t. Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the impala and leaned against the roof looking at Sam.

“I think the last thing you should be worrying about, Sam, is that bastard ‘harassing’ me.” Dean said, frowning a little at the younger boy’s martyr attitude. “So either let them kick the shit out of you again, or do something about it.”

With that, Dean got into his car. 

* * *

Sam had kind of hoped Dean would be by to pick him up but he didn’t want Dean to feel like he had to. From Dean’s attitude it was obvious Sam would be walking. Well, he told him he didn’t have to so he couldn’t complain. He was baffled by the brusqueness Dean showed his family though. His family hadn’t been anything but nice to Dean. He scowled a little. Maybe Dean was little better than the others who went to Chalmers.

“It’ll be my fault and I don’t want to cause you any problems,” Sam said. He laughed bitterly at Dean’s comment. “And what am I supposed to do? I slammed my lunch tray upside one kid’s head. I fought back when I could. But it’s kind of hard to do sh*t when it’s four against one and they have a hold of your arms. Wait, I know, I’ll go back to Eric and tell him how sorry I am. Or I can—what did Randall say—get me a sponsor. Yeah. Hey Dean, wanna be my sponsor? I am a virgin and all. You getting there first would sure as hell piss off Eric.”

Sam turned away from the car and limped back toward the door. He stopped and turned back to Dean. “I’m sorry I’m not some bad ass like you. I’m sorry I’m some middle class kid trying to fit in to a school that I don’t belong in and that the richest bastard in the school wants me to be his bitch. I’m sorry my dad isn’t best buddies with the principal like yours. Or is he even your dad? Winchester. I thought you were pretty cool. My parents did too.” He glared at Dean. “And I guess you’ll be too good to join us for a stupid family cook out too, huh? Well maybe I’ll have Dad call Bobby. I bet Bobby would come.”

He really didn’t know where the anger inside him was coming from. It wasn’t Dean’s fault. It was his own. He just wanted to lash out, feeling trapped and helpless. And he was letting his alligator mouth over ride his hummingbird ass, as his dad would say, with both Dean and Eric. He headed for the front door, barely holding back his tears of frustration.

* * *

Rather than being pissed off by Sam’s ‘passionate’ bitch fest, Dean merely rolled his eyes at the younger boy’s retreating back. So, Sam was finally getting a lesson of just how fucked up this world really was. Well, boo-fucking-hoo. It was long past time that the younger boy woke up and smelled the steaming shit pile that life dumped on you on a daily basis no matter what you did to try to crawl out of it.

If Sam thought he could earn Dean’s sympathy by whining about how unfair life was, he would be sorely disappointed. Dean had seen firsthand just how ‘unfair’ life was when he was three years old and he watched his home burn to the ground with his parents still inside. Life had reminded him just how fucked up it was every second of every minute since then.

His parents killed. His brother taken from him. Being passed around like some fucking hot potato from family to family as a child, until he’d finally ended up with a foster father that liked to ‘hug’ him a little too much. Running away and living on the street for two years and learning what you had to do to survive on those streets…

Yeah, life sucked. So get a fucking helmet.

If Sam wanted to be pissed off and lash out at him because he knew that Dean wouldn’t hit back, or at least thought Dean wouldn’t hit him back, that was Sam’s right. But if Sam thought that Dean was just going to sit there and be his verbal whipping boy, again, he would be disappointed.

“Oh Boo-fucking-hoo. Life isn’t fair. I don’t fit in. I’m being picked on at school.” Dean mimicked Sam’s whiny ass tone, only a lot more annoyingly. “Maybe you deserve to be someone’s bitch, since you’re so good at acting like one, Sam.”

Dean didn’t wait for Sam’s reply before gunning the engine and driving away. 

* * *

Sam cringed at hearing Dean's retort. God, did he sound like that? Well, dammit, he'd never experienced anything like this before. Yeah he had been picked on for being Supergeek the Superfreak. He didn't know how to handle Eric. Was he supposed to just fold and give in? Dean said to do something about it? Like what? He mulled this over as he went inside.

"He seems like a nice kid," Sam's father said and waved Sam onto the couch.

"He's poor," Sam said simply. "His dad owns Singer's Salvage. He's friends with the principal and got Dean in." Sam sat down on the couch wincing, putting arm across his ribs.

Jim Colt paused a moment. "Oh. Well, we can't all be born rich."

"You're not blowing a gasket because I'm friends with the poorest kid in school?"

"Ah, but you're also friends with some of the richest, the ones that can help you succeed," Jim said, unwrapping Sam's knee so he could get the ice on it.

"Dad…Eric…he…"

Jim gave him a hard look. "I know you two seem to be on the outs. I told you before, fix it."

"Dad, he wants me to—"

"I don't care. Fix it," his father said, holding the ice pack out for him.

Sam shoved himself off the couch.

"Samuel!"

"I'm going to my room!" Sam snapped, ignoring the offered icepack. He limped to his room and slammed the door. He looked around at the posters he had, one of Einstein, one of the Earth from space, a picture of Lady Justice with her blindfold and holding two swords, among others. He ripped them down. He ripped them all down and shredded them. He started to stuff them into the trashcan then instead left them where they fell.

Turning on his computer he sat at his desk. Opening the drawer he found Bobby's card. He picked up the phone and called him.

"Hi Bobby, it's Sam."

"Home safe and sound are you?"

"Yeah. Hey could you do me a big favor? Do you have a list of all the clients Dean's restored cars for?"

"Well, yeah. Why?"

"I wanna make him a present. It's a surprise. Can you give me their names and phone numbers?"

Bobby hesitated. "I dunno, kid…"

"Oh, c'mon, it'll be a really cool surprise, I promise. He may be kinda pissed at me when he gets back and I want to make it up to him."

Bobby was silent for a minute. "You know, I ain't seen that boy go out of his way for anyone when he wasn't on a job."

"I don't think he'll be doing that again," Sam sighed. "But that doesn't matter. I still want to do this for him. He doesn't…he doesn't have a portfolio of his work, does he?"

"His cars? No," Bobby said. "He just does it on the side, kiddo. He likes doing it."

"Fine," Sam huffed, "but calling it a scrapbook sure makes it sound girlie."

Bobby burst into laughter. "Yeah, all right. Hang on. It's on my computer."

"Can you email me the list? I want to call them and get pictures of Dean's cars. Think that'll be okay?"

"Yeah," Bobby said warmly.

"Super! My email is sjcolt45_1983 at hotmail. And would you tell Dean…I'm sorry. And…and if he would pick me up tomorrow, I won't say a word all the way to school. I'll be heading out to the bus stop at 7:30. No hard feelings if he doesn't want to. I was being a jerk."

"He can have that effect on people," Bobby sighed. "I'll tell him."

"He might be pissed I told you but…we're having a cook out on Sunday, barbque chicken and potato salad and stuff. Just me and mom and dad. Dad invited him and you. I don't think he wants to come, but…well…just so you know. Dad usually starts cooking about two."

"Okay. I'll keep it in mind, kid."

"Thanks Bobby. Bye."

Bobby hung up the phone and shook his head. If Dean came home all worked up…maybe some target shooting would do him some good. If the boy hadn't gotten plastered the night before, he might have even offered him some whiskey. Hell, he might anyhow. After he finished his homework.

 

* * *

Dean hadn’t even gotten a block away from Sam’s house before he cranked the volume back up on his stereo back to where it should be. Loud enough that when he stopped at a crosswalk two women walking by, one pushing a stroller and one holding the hand of a little girl, glared at him disapprovingly as they passed in front of his car. He gave them the one fingered salute, which had both of the women gasping and hurrying. The one mom trying to cover the eyes of her daughter at the same time.

Fucking suburbia. He hated it.

Gunning the engine Dean pulled out of the intersection fast enough that he probably would have gotten pulled over if any cops were nearby. Right now he was in enough of a mood that he might have given them a run for their money. Bobby would kill him if he got arrested again though. Especially for something so stupid.

God damn Sam. Why the hell had he even bothered to stop his car in the first place and help him? Sam’s problems definitely weren’t any of his concern. God damn Bobby for bringing the boy home like a stray puppy. If Bobby hadn’t done that he would have gone on perfectly blissfully happy and uninvolved in the younger boy’s issues. Issues Dean definitely didn’t need. He had more than enough problems of his own. He could have driven by Sam on the road today without a second look, and instead he’d stopped, gotten involved… he must be out of his fucking mind.

When Dean pulled into the salvage yard, Rumsfeld was there to greet him again, as always. Jumping around and acting like a fool. Like the animal hadn’t seen him in years when he’d only been gone about a half hour or so. Usually it made him smile. Right now he just sighed as he patted the dog on the head and headed for the front door.

“I’m home.” He called to Bobby when he walked in the house. Not that Bobby probably didn’t already know he was there from Rumsfeld’s barking, but just in case. Dean had learned early on that it was always a bad idea to surprise a hunter.

“I left the receipts from this afternoon on your desk, did you find them?” He asked as he walked into the kitchen and tossed his keys down on the counter. 

* * *

Bobby looked up from where he had some guns spread out on the kitchen table. "Yep. Saw 'em. Thanks."

He ran the rag down the barrel of the pistol he held. Yeah, Dean had that slight edge to his voice and tension in shoulders. He was definitely upset.

"After you finish your homework, thought we might do some night time target practice." He chuckled at Dean's grimace. "I know, but you know you have to do it. The better your grades, the more trade secrets I'll share, that's the deal. Might even have a hunt coming up in a couple weeks iffen you keep your grades up. Might have us a werewolf."

The light he saw in Dean's eyes made him smile. He watched as Dean grabbed his books and set them on the table across from him. "I want to tell you, son, I'm proud of you for stepping in and helping that young 'un. He's a bit out of his league with that bunch at yer school." Bobby swiped the cleaning cloths down the barrel. "Sammy called, told me to tell you he was sorry for being a jerk. And he was hoping you might find it in you to pick him up tomorrow a bit before 7:30. Even said he would be quiet all the way to the school grounds. Course if you did that, you could save a little of your homework for the morning since you would be getting in to school a little early." He cocked an eyebrow at Dean.

* * *

Dean walked over to the cupboard, grabbed the bag of Doritos down, and shoved a few into his mouth. When Rumsfeld sat down next to him and whined, Dean looked over his shoulder at Bobby to make sure the older man wasn’t looking before he also fed the dog a chip. Not that they didn’t feed Rumsfeld their leftovers all the time, but Doritos were kind of pushing it.

Target practice, Dean could definitely appreciate some of that right about now. He felt like pumping a few bullets into something, even if it was only a target. However the stipulation that he had to do his homework had the young man making a face. He was really in no mood to do his fucking homework tonight.

Bobby’s reminder of their deal, and knowing that the older man definitely wasn’t going to let him near the guns tonight unless he did his homework first, had him grumbling under his breath but he grabbed his books all the same. Taking them and his chips over to the table and sitting down across from the older man. But when Bobby mentioned taking him on another hunt soon, Dean’s mood changed quickly. A _werewolf_ even. Awesome.

Dean dug out his math homework first and started working on it. He had kind of expected Bobby to just quietly clean the guns while he worked, and was a little surprised when the older man started talking again. When Bobby said he was proud of him… for helping Sam… Dean kept his eyes glued to the page of his textbook, only shrugging a little in reply. He still wasn’t used to hearing Bobby say stuff like that to him. That he was proud of him…

He supposed Bobby was right though. The bastards at that school were a little out of Sam’s league. Dean on the other hand was used to dealing with scum. The fact that these assholes just happened to be well bred scum made little difference.

Dean looked up quickly before he could stop himself, unable to keep the slight surprise off his face when Bobby said that Sam had called to apologize. He turned his attention back to his book just as quickly though, frowning slightly as he pondered the reason why the younger boy would even bother… probably just didn’t want to get jumped again…

The young man flicked his gaze up to Bobby again briefly when the older man said he could put off doing some of his homework if he took Sam to school early in the morning. It was an obvious bribe, just like letting him target practice, and taking him on a hunt again so soon. Bobby must really like Sam.

“I’ll think about it.” Dean finally answered, turning back to his work.

* * *

Sam got in several calls to Dean's customers over the next half hour and then turned to his book bag. Eric had left everything untouched and no hidden surprises that he could find and he checked pretty thoroughly. With a sigh, he started his homework, and was really wishing he had at least snagged one of the bags of ice his dad had made up. He wasn't about to go out and get one though.

He decided a hot shower might help ease the pain, and a few more Tylenol. He had most of his homework done, but he still hadn't figured out how he was going to protect himself the next day. It was hard getting his ribs unwrapped and he doubted he would be able to re-wrap them without help. Well, after his shower he would worry about it. He crossed the hall to the bathroom, popped some Tylenol and just stood under the shower for awhile. It felt good.

After wrapping the towel around his waist, he opened the door to go back to his room and stopped short, coming face to face with his mother. Her eyes took in the bruising on his chest and abdomen.

"Who did this Sam?" she asked softly.

"Eric gave me a couple, so did Adam and Cody, and then some of the other kids, probably on Eric's orders all so I'd go to Eric, begging him to take me back. Mom I can't, I won't, 'fix it' between Eric and me. I don't want a friend like him."

"What was the fight over?" she asked as she ushered him into his room. She saw the bandages that had been around Sam's ribs and picked them up. She had her son sit on the chair while she began wrapping his ribs.

Sam considered for a long while. "Girls. Let's just leave it at that."

"Huh," his mother said and tugged the bandages tightly. "So they'll come after you again tomorrow."

"Pretty good bet."

"You know what you need to do?"

Sam looked at her expectantly.

She smiled sweetly. "Play dirty, Sweetheart. Don't wait for them to hit first if you know they're coming for you."

He gaped at her. "What?"

"You heard me. Punch them in the throat, kick them in their privates, stomp on feet and hands. Whatever it takes."

"And if I get suspended for fighting?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'd rather see you suspended than with a chestful of broken ribs, or internal injuries or broken limbs."

"Dad…"

"I'll deal with your father," she said. "You just take whatever he doles out. But I'll deal with him once he calms down."

"I don't want to go back to that school, Mom," Sam said softly.

She patted his shoulder. "Welcome to the real world, Sammy. It isn't always white picket fences and new cars. Sometimes you have to work really hard to get what you want. Sometimes you have to fight really hard for what you want. Sometimes you have to do both. You can't just cave in and give up because it suddenly got hard or unpleasant. You want to be a lawyer. Do you think you'll always be dealing with nice people, innocent people? Do you think you won't make enemies? It's part of growing up. Do your best. Try to find your footing, make other friends. I'll bet in no time you'll be doing okay."

Sam nodded, though he didn't really believe her. "Can I skip the party on Saturday?" he asked hopefully.

"I think I might be able to come down with the flu," she said, winking at him.

Surprise once again colored his eyes.

"I could care less about the rich snooty women. Your dad only wants it so badly because he's convinced it will help you make a better life for yourself. I just want you to be happy."

"But you're killing yourselves working overtime…"

She laughed. "Sweetheart, I'd probably be doing the overtime anyhow. Now stop worrying about it. Do your best and don’t put up with their shit. You're a Colt. Maybe we're not rich, but dammit, we're strong. I expect you to be, too." She tousled his hair. "I can only do that when you're sitting down now, you're getting so tall. Get some sleep. It'll be better in the morning. And you've got Dean to help you, don't you?"

Sam shrugged. "Uhm, maybe. I don't know. I only met him yesterday."

"Well," she smiled as she got up and went to the door, "friendship has to start somewhere."

*

In the morning, Sam put two old text books in the back pack and put some quarters in a small pouch in his pocket. He put his homework in a folder and two copies of each folded in the text books. He decided wearing his sports cup might be a good idea, and his mom wrapped extra bandages around his ribs for some small bit of extra protection. He was going to try to stay on the offensive if he could. He would just have to pay better attention to those around him.

It was going on 7:30 and he knew he needed to get going to the bus stop. His knee, with the Tylenol, was feeling okay, especially so long as it was wrapped. He didn't think he would limp much. Still. Ten fucking blocks. It was going to be aching he figured by the time he got there. He picked up his things and headed for the door.


	3. Chapter 3

  
Dean had kept his promise to Bobby. He has thought about it… thought about Sam… most of the night.    


  
He'd only half concentrated on doing his homework, not really caring whether or not he got the answers right or wrong tonight, just getting it done to please Bobby so they could do some target practice. Dean thought about how Sam had looked the first time he had seen him standing there in the hallway. Bruised, bloody, and scared. Understandably so after what had happened, or almost happened, to the younger boy. 

Though Sam had been understandably cautious of him, he'd still invited him in for beers and a few games of pool. Which, Dean has to admit, he had enjoyed. Sam had played a pretty good game, and had even given Dean a run for his money a couple times. 

Finished with his homework, Dean had helped Bobby finish cleaning and loading up the guns, then followed the older hunter outside. He always enjoyed target practice, and nighttime target practice was especially fun. It was also essential, since most of the things they hunted did so at night and not mid afternoon. It was important to be able to shoot a gun accurately in little or no light.

Dean never let his mind wander on a hunt, and the same went for training. So it wasn't until after they'd finished and he was sharing a couple of drinks with Bobby before he'd thought about Sam again. How Sam had looked as he was about to drive by, not so much frightened but resigned, knowing the boys were behind him, knowing what they had planned for him, knowing he couldn't do anything to stop it… so Dean had. He didn't regret doing so, not one bit. He didn't regret bringing Sam back here or taking care of him. He was still a little surprised Sam had let him do so. 

He still couldn't quite believe that bastard Eric had been waiting for Sam for when he got home. Dean knew Sam had been freaked out by that, understandably, but Sam had stood up to Eric. Sam certainly had balls, unfortunately Bobby was right, the younger boy was a little out of his league dealing with Eric and those other bastards at school. Dean kind of regretted telling Sam that he deserved to be someone's bitch. 

Dean went to bed pondering some of the other things Sam had said. Unfortunately, Sam was right, he didn't have many options. Not when it was four or five against one at a time and the younger boy obviously didn't know how to fight. Dean's mouth twisted into a frown remembering Sam talk about getting himself a 'sponsor'. Dean knew the term, he went to that fucking school after all, and they'd tried the exact same thing on him because he was a 'pretty boy'… like Sam was. It was a fucked up option, but unfortunately many of the younger or weaker boys were forced into it. Basically whoring themselves to avoid getting beaten instead. 

Dean knew that Sam had been tired, hurting, and angry when he'd 'asked' him to sponsor him. It was completely fucked up and it made him feel a little dirty. Not that Sam wasn't a looker, in fact, he was kind of Dean's type. Looks wise, anyway. Dean had learned swung both ways a long time ago, but had tried hard to keep that fact from Bobby, not sure how the older man would react to that particular fact about him. So he'd only picked up girls around here, and the occasional guy when they were on the road and no rumors would leak back to the older man's ears. 

So, he definitely wasn't turned off by the idea… just the part about Sam whoring himself to him for protection, that part he didn't like. If Sam were genuinely willing, that was another story… but he wasn't. At least he didn't think he was… Dean sighed heavily, staring up at the dark ceiling above his bed. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd made a decision based on what his dick wanted. Usually those decisions didn't turn out good either. 

But the next morning he found himself getting up earlier than he normally did and driving to Sam's house. He got there a couple of minutes before 7:30 , just in time to catch Sam coming out of his front door, and honked his car horn a couple of times.    


* * *

As he started to step outside, he had heard the rumble but his mind was on the walk ahead and he didn’t recognize it. The beeping horn made him spin and almost drop his house keys. The Impala! Dean had accepted his apology! Or Bobby had made him come or guilted him in to coming. It didn’t matter, he didn’t have to walk and if anyone saw him arrive at school, he figured Eric would hear about it so he would get called on lying. Extra bonus was that he wasn’t going to have to sneak in from the back side. Maybe he could convince Dean to start taking him to school and even take him home. He could offer to help Dean with his homework, even if just checking it over. His parents usually read over his homework, to check for anything blatant. Maybe if he offered that way. He didn’t want to imply Dean couldn’t do the work because obviously he could but it was always good to have someone look over it. Hell, he would be happy to do the senior’s schoolwork just for the ride to and from school.

After checking to make sure the door had locked, he shifted the designer backpack on his shoulder and hurried down to the sleek street machine. He knew he was probably grinning like an idiot.

“Thanks for picking me up!” Sam said, then slid into the seat. He promised he would be quiet so as not to annoy the older boy with his babble but he did have a couple things he wanted to ask Dean.

“I know I promised I’d be quiet but I wanted to see if you had any other suggestions. I loaded up two old text books in the backpack for slamming into someone and have that second shoulder strap tight so hopefully no one can grab it. Since a roll of quarters in your pocket is kind of obvious, I filled up a pouch that I intend to keep in my hand going from class to class to help me hit harder. I’m wearing my cup and Mom put an extra two layers of wrappings on my ribs and I’ve got some old plastic shin guards on that don’t show. Mom said to be proactive. If I thought I was going to get jumped to nail them first and fight dirty. I’ve never really had any bullying this bad before and never been in any real fights. Any suggestions? Are my ideas good ideas? Bad ideas? Anything else I can do to defend myself?”

* * *

The look on Sam’s face when the younger boy turned around at the sound of his horn was obvious surprise. Sam hadn’t thought he’d show up. That was fine though, since Dean was still a little surprised he’d shown up as well.

The way Sam was grinning at him, practically from ear to ear, as he made his way towards Dean’s car had to be hurting the younger boy’s bruised face. It was also infectious and the young man felt himself grinning back before he could stop himself as Sam climbed into his car.

“Sure.” He told Sam at the other boy’s offer of thanks, eyeing the boy up and down but not overly. Dean didn’t want Sam to think he was leering at him or anything. Sam seemed to be doing a lot better than yesterday. Sure he was still bruised up to hell, but he wasn’t limping as badly and his mood had certainly improved. He didn’t look like he was walking to his own execution or anything, even knowing what would probably be in store for him today was more of yesterday. Dean had to admit, he was impressed.

When Sam started listing off all the precautions he was taking. Dean couldn’t help but laugh, definitely surprised, that Sam’s _mother_ had apparently given the younger boy both the idea, and permission, to fight dirty. Ok, maybe he liked Mrs. Colt after all.

“Fighting dirty. Yeah, it’s a good start.” Dean replied, still chuckling a little as he started driving them towards the school. “When you’re feeling up to it, you should practice fighting so that you know what to do and when.

Still, even fighting dirty and being ‘proactive’ wasn’t going to deter the other little bastards all that much from laying into Sam. It might actually make the beatings worse in the long run, because anyone that Sam did take down would be out for blood then instead of just trying to intimidate the younger boy. The better way… would be to deter them from even touching Sam in the first place.

“I can… walk you to your classes… if you want.”

* * *

Sam wasn't sure, but he thought the laugh was one of approval. "Well, I'd need someone to practice with. If you'll teach me to fight, I'd gladly start today. Who knows how long it'll be before I'm not bruised up."

shocked by Dean's offer, Sam turned and gaped at him a moment. "I-uh, yeah, that would be very cool," Sam said.

Holy crap. Maybe he wouldn't end up a bloody little smear today. He had seen how people got out of Dean's way. He smirked a little thinking back two nights ago when Dean proclaimed he wasn't his bodyguard. Maybe they would leave him alone with Dean at his side. He could maybe even risk taking his real books with him to class. And he was definitely trading out the fancy backpack he was carrying for the one that was still in his locker. Assuming they hadn't broken into his locker of course. He was just going to carry Eric's out of spite because he would much rather whack attackers up side the head with the fancy one than damage his own. The designer backpack was great, but it was just a reminder of Eric and he didn't like that. Besides, he pretty much figured it was one of the ways Eric was 'marking' his territory. One more reason, probably, that Eric had returned it. To remind everyone Sam 'belonged' to him. Hah.

He pulled out a sheet of paper and quickly wrote down his schedule. "These are my classes," he said. "Um, you sure you really don't mind? It's absolutely awesome if you will," Sam said, practically bouncing with the thought. If Eric was pissed seeing Sam with Dean last night, imagine his face when he saw Dean walking him to class, just like he used to do. It would be all over the school by third period. Still he couldn't be stupid. Just cause Dean was with him didn't mean they both wouldn't be jumped. He still had to be ready to fight, he reminded himself.

The prospect of school suddenly got a whole lot less depressing.  


* * *

Dean looked at Sam mildly surprised how easily the younger boy took to the idea of learning how to street fight. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d kind of had Sam pegged as one of those people who usually tried to avoid fighting at all costs. Though getting ones ass thoroughly kicked two days in a row was probably a pretty good motivation to rethink a pacifist attitude. Dean certainly had no qualms about teaching Sam a few useful moves to put his enemies on the ground quickly and with little effort.

No, his qualms lay with the fact that he was doing this at all… and his reasons for doing them. Last night Bobby had said he was ‘proud’ of him for stepping in to help Sam. He wondered how ‘proud’ of him the older man would be now. Dean couldn’t help but wonder briefly if it made him just as bad as the rest of them. Though of course he’d never try to force Sam or hurt him if the younger boy said ‘no’.

Fuck. He’d never meant to get this involved. He could still walk away now, if he wanted, leave the younger boy to fend for himself. It would certainly make _his_ life in the near future a lot easier if he walked away. Hell, Sam might not even say yes… But the younger boy didn’t even hesitate agreeing to let Dean take him from class to class the young man looked at Sam. Just to be sure. Then took the sheet of paper with Sam’s schedule with a nod.

“I don’t mind.” Dean replied, relaxing a little seeing the surety on in Sam’s eyes. Well, he supposed the only trick now would be to ‘stake his claim’ so to speak on the younger boy so that everyone knew not to fucking touch Sam. That shouldn’t be too difficult. Thinking of the expression of anger on Eric’s face when he’d seen Sam with him yesterday, Dean smiled a little. It might even be fun.

He would walk Sam to his classes. He would make sure the younger boy sat near him at lunch. Then he could take Sam back to the salvage yard after school, show him a few things and then let the younger boy practice while he finished his work. Dean was pretty sure Bobby wouldn’t care about him teaching Sam how to defend himself… as long as Bobby didn’t figure out anything else they would be fine.

“I’ll take you to your classes and pick you up outside your classroom before lunch and after your last class of the day. I can drive you home, or to the salvage yard if you want and I can show you some things.” He told the younger boy as they pulled into the parking lot of the school. It was still pretty early so they were one of the first cars there. 

* * *

Sam grinned at Dean's offer and nodded happily. "That will be very cool. Maybe I won't end up imitating a punching bag today, though I gotta feeling gym will suck balls."

Looking at the campus it seemed almost peaceful, brochure quality even. Yesterday he had been worried, unsure what was going to happen. He really hadn't expect being pounded on at every turn. He had simply hoped to make it in without trouble. Today, he brought trouble with him. He forced himself not to giggle at that. He had a feeling if he asked around, that's what they would say, that Dean was trouble. Then again, no one messed with him, so maybe he wasn't. Now maybe no one would mess with Sam, either. It would be different from when he was Eric's little showpiece, he knew that. He didn't know if Dean had any friends in this school and somehow, he kind of figured he didn't. But that was okay. So everyone wouldn't wave at him and smile at him. It would be just as cool to have them all get out of his way. He had never had that happen before. Okay, so it was Dean they were avoiding, but he would be a good student and learn to fight as well as Dean so Dean wouldn't have to be his bodyguard all the time.

He really needed to ask around and find out more about Dean. Briefly, he recalled what he had seen in Bobby's house. Maybe…maybe he was getting suckered. Well, if he was, it had been a good ride with Eric before a couple nights ago. He had had a lot of fun. Now…now was anyone's guess. He had never been a 'bad boy,' but he had a feeling Dean fell into that category so that made him one too. Wouldn't his friends at his old school just shit seeing him hanging with a 'hood.'

Sam shifted in the seat so he could look at Dean. "We're here early. Guess that's kind of my fault. I probably ought to go to my locker. I really don’t want to carry this thing," he lifted up the offending back pack, "around unless you think it might piss Eric off more. I'm all for pissing off Eric. My back pack is in my locker since I figured they'd just snag it from me yesterday. Did you need to finish up any homework or anything?"  
  


* * *

Dean snorted softly at Sam’s comment as he shut the car’s engine off.

“Gym always sucks balls.” The young man replied, turning his full attention to Sam for the first time since the younger boy had gotten into his car. He had no idea what might be going on in that brain of Sam’s, but whatever it was, the younger boy was smiling so it couldn’t be too bad.

Sam had a nice smile, he decided... and fucking dimples. A smile curved his own lips in spite of himself as he looked at the younger boy. Sam really was fucking adorable when he wanted to be... or maybe more accurately, when he wasn’t even trying.

Dean hadn’t allowed himself to look before, for obvious reasons. Over the last two days he’d known the younger boy Sam had been nearly assaulted and beaten to hell, and the last thing Sam needed was another pervert leering and groping at him. But now Dean let himself look and he liked what he saw.

He also remembered how Sam had looked sitting in his kitchen without a shirt. How the younger boy’s skin had felt beneath his hands as he’d checked Sam over and wrapped up his ribs. Dean’s thoughts had been purely professional then. They definitely weren’t professional now, but he wasn’t about to make a move on the younger boy while Sam was still recovering from getting his ass kicked only yesterday. His bruises hadn’t even begun to fade yet for Christ sake.

Dean could wait... whenever Sam was ready. Until then, it was going to stay professional.

The young man made a face as Sam showed him the expensive book bag, obviously a gift from Eric.

“You want to piss him off? Throw it away. Or better yet. Burn it.” Dean replied, grinning, as he got out of the car. “Finished my homework last night.” He told the younger boy. Because he hadn’t decided then whether or not he was going to pick up Sam or not. 

* * *

"Got a lighter?" Sam asked with a laugh. There was that trashcan mid campus. Burn it partway and then leave it laying there for everyone to see. He liked that idea. He couldn't even bring himself to sell it because anything he bought with it would just make him feel dirty. "I don't know, might be a good bag for you to put your greasy tools in before you've had a chance to clean them up or something."

Sam twisted to get out of the car and strangled a gasp. Fuck. He turned the rest of the way more slowly and pushed open the heavy door. After rolling up the window he locked the door, then pulled the backpack out and slung it over his shoulder, grimacing when the back hit a little harder into his back than he had meant for it to. Shutting the door made him wince again. Oh, today was just going to suck.

"My locker's in Jordan Hall." He motioned to the main building, the one he'd gotten jumped outside of before by Eric. He ran his hand over the backpack. What if Dean bailed, decided he was too much trouble? Maybe he ought to hang onto the backpack…just in case. His whole world had been turned upside down in the past few days. He was already being hasty by taking up with Dean probably, but he considered it survival for the moment. Not that he didn't like Dean, just after Eric, he would have preferred to be more cautious. He just didn't see that he had that luxury and he did like Dean. Dean still scared him a little, one of those big broody teens, but he had had a good time shooting pool with Dean and drinking beer. The senior had saved him from a beating, patched him up, then went inside with him when he had to face down Eric. Frankly Dean had given him the courage to say some of the things he did, which was probably pretty stupid because Dean might have just come in to piss off Eric, not to have Sam's back. But still…hasty was bad. "I'll stuff the bag in my locker for now and decide what I want to do with it. I pissed Eric off but good last night. Probably shouldn't taunt him that extra little bit today. Save it for a day he's really earned it or something. Besides, Mom's going to try to get us out of the party, but," he gave a slight shrug, "I may get stuck going."

* * *

Dean’s grin at Sam’s question of whether or not he had a lighter immediately changed to a frown as he watched the younger boy struggle to get out of the car. He was actually a bit surprised that Sam had seemed so well off before, hardly even limping really when he’d gotten into his car this morning. But Sam was obviously feeling the effects of the beatings he’d gotten yesterday now. Not just the physical effects either.

The young man didn’t ask for any help getting out of the car, so Dean didn’t offer any. But he could see the pain, as well as the doubt, flickering across Sam’s expression and in his eyes. He wondered exactly what Sam was having doubts over. Was Sam having second thoughts about asking Dean to... or was he having doubts that Dean could actually protect him from Eric and his goons.

To be honest, Dean wasn’t all that certain how he was going to do it. Simply hanging around Sam should be enough to dissuade most of the other students from even trying to abuse the younger boy. But it probably wouldn’t chase off all of them. Not the ones that thought they had something to prove, like Eric. Dean certainly wasn’t afraid of the rich asshole, and he could easily hold his own against the other boy. He hunted monsters for Christ sake.

But human monsters were different from monster monsters in one major way. You couldn’t just salt and burn them to get rid of them. They’d keep coming back. He wasn’t always going to be able to keep Sam in his sights 24/7. That’s why teaching Sam how to hold his own was going to be so important.

“Whatever you think is best.” Dean finally answered with a slight shrug, falling into step beside Sam as they walked towards the building where Sam’s locker was. “Just don’t wimp out on me now, Sammy.”

* * *

"It's _Sam_ ," he said emphatically. "Sammy's a five year old. If you mean by wimp out, that I go back to Eric? Not happening." _I hope_ , he thought privately. "Dean, I didn't even know what a 'sponsor' was until yesterday. I didn't ask for Eric to 'sponsor' me. He just up and friended me on that first day. I didn't have a clue. I thought he was a cool guy, I don't know, maybe taking pity on the poor middle classer trying to fit in. It was that way for weeks. Then he took me out to this old burned out church in the middle of nowhere. He asked if I was a virgin, and I thought, 'hey maybe he's going to get me laid, maybe some of those pretty cheerleaders or something are going to meet us" and the next thing I know he's got his tongue halfway down my throat and his hand down my pants grabbing my dick. He backhands me and as I tried to get out of his car, damned near broke my wrist."

He paused outside the large doors. It was going to hurt to pull one of them open but even as he reached for it, Dean opened it for him. He gave him a small but grateful smile. "I convinced him I'd play ball, be his bitch and when I went around to his side of the car, I got him to turn and put both his feet on the ground. I grabbed his keys complaining about the door ajar noise then slammed the car door on his legs as hard as I could. I am so pissed it wasn't hard enough to break one of them. I just didn't have the time to get the leverage I guess. Then I ran like hell."

"I'm not a wimp, I'm not stupid. I am, I guess, naïve as hell," he sighed softly as he motioned Dean down a hall on the right. "My previous schools were your normal middle class schools. You've got the prima-donas, the popular, the geeks, the freaks, the jocks, the hoods, the sluts, the norms, and a few gays. Cigarette smoking and weed in the bathrooms or back in the bleaches or something. You have the occasional fights, I don't know, just normal stuff. This…" he shook his head, "Cocaine, money tossed like candy at a parade, teachers that turn a blind eye if it's the richest doing whatever. Hell I feel like I'm on the mean streets, just everyone's wearing Armani suits." He stopped at his locker and pulled out his book bag, opening it and taking out his torn clothes from the day before he stuffed them back in his locker. He dropped his two text books and folder with his homework down in the book bag then pulled out a notebook from his locker. He shoved the designer bag in his locker, pulling out the couple books he had left at the school two days ago and set them on top of everything else for easier access. He'd skip taking them with him to class yet today, just in case. He traded out the lock he had on his locker for a new one. Eric knew his locker combination. He attached the old combination lock to the outside of his book bag. It might be useful if he slugged anyone upside the head with his pack. He tightened one shoulder strap as tight as he could and left the other more or less loose.

Looking up at Dean he said, "You're lucky you know how to fight." He frowned a moment, then said, "Well, maybe you aren't. Means you had to learn how the hard way I'd guess. Kinda like me. God I hope I'm as fast at learning how to fight as I am at book stuff. I've never had to fight. Really? I'd rather not. But I'm not going to stand around with my thumb up my butt and whimper 'why me?'" He shut his locker, hefted his bag, and headed toward homeroom.

He was pleased that his legs were long enough that Dean didn't outpace him. He'd only recently gained the height that he had. He really thought he was going to end up as short as his mom.

The classroom door was open but no one was inside. "So, do I wait inside the class room until you show up? Wait outside the door? Jesus, I feel stupid needing protection like some little eight year old girl."

* * *

Dean rolled his eyes a little as the younger boy ‘corrected’ him on the use of his name. Talk about sensitive. Sam really could act like a total bitchy girl sometimes. Annoying, whiney, babbling on and on… yeah, if he didn’t know any better he’d accuse Sam of having PMS.

The young man pretty much tuned Sam out as the younger boy went on and on about his ‘life story’ regarding Eric. Dean didn’t really care. He had figured out the gist of it himself anyway and if he’d wanted the damned details, he would have asked for them.

Instead Dean concentrated on the grounds around him, keeping his eyes open for any possible threads just as he would have if he was on a hunt with Bobby. There were mostly teachers wandering about here and there at this time of the morning, the grounds almost completely empty of students, though they’d begin arriving soon. There were a few groups of students hanging out, however, studying or whatever and Dean made sure to keep an eye on them.

Almost all of them stopped talking amongst themselves to stare at him and Sam as they walked past. Dean was sure they made quite the sight. Considering everyone pretty much knew who he was, and knew that he didn’t walk with _anyone_. In fact, most of the other students were quick to get as far away from him as they fucking could. Dean smirked a little at the shocked looks on their faces and the way they quickly averted their stares when he turned a glare on them.

He knew Eric and his ‘crew’ weren’t going to be so easy to scare off from bothering Sam, but he’d deal with that when the time came.

Dean leaned up against the row of lockers, bored, while he waited for Sam to change out his books and other crap. Sam was still prattling on. Something about how his ‘old’ school was _so_ much different from this one. Here he actually had to fend for himself. _Welcome to the real world._ Dean wanted to say, but held his tongue.

Lucky… yeah right, whatever.

By the time they’d reached Sam’s home room class Dean had just about enough of the younger boy’s babbling and turned to Sam with a slightly irritated expression.

“Alright, _Sam_. First rule: No more babbling. You have a question? Fine. But I’m not interested in hearing your life stories. I’ll bring you to school, I’ll take you home, I’ll show you how to fight, and I’ll make sure you don’t get your ass handed to you in the mean time. But other than that, I expect you to stay out of my way and not annoy the shit out of me.” Dean said, giving Sam a moment to let that sink in, reminding the younger boy this was a business arrangement, they weren't friends, before he continued. “To answer your question, when I’m not around, stay in sight of the faculty. Don’t go to the restrooms alone. Don’t go outside alone. Don’t get stuck in a classroom alone without any teachers around. Got it?” 

* * *

He saw Dean's expression and wondered what he'd done wrong until Dean made it quite clear what he'd done wrong. He nodded, knowing he was probably a little wide-eyed at Dean's tone. He didn't understand why Dean was even doing this if Sam annoyed him so much. Maybe Bobby had a hand in it? Well, he could be quiet, if it meant Dean would teach him to fight and protect him until he could.

Listening to Dean's answer, he nodded his understanding and had to bite back the "yes sir" that wanted to pop out of his mouth. He wondered if he had annoyed Eric as much with his talk. Eric seemed to enjoy their conversations but then, Eric talked, unlike Dean who said very little most of the time at least, most of the time Sam had been around him. Which really wasn't hardly any time at all. Maybe Dean would warm up to him, but somehow, he didn't think so. For whatever reason, Dean was helping him and he would take that help so long as Dean offered it.

Sam settled into his seat, placing his bag between his knees, mostly so he didn't have to lean over to pull the back pack out from under the seat. It was hard to lean over like that right now. Since he wasn't supposed to talk, he turned his head and stared out the window, watching as the campus slowly began to crawl to life. Awkward hardly began to cover how he felt.

* * *

Sam’s wide eyed shocked expression made Dean feel a little like an ass for being so sharp with the younger boy. But Sam might as well get used to it, because Dean wasn’t the kind of person who sugar coated things. He’d told the younger boy before that he wasn’t his friend or his bodyguard. Just because Dean had decided to take up the latter duty, certainly didn’t mean they were the former. They had an arrangement, that was all.

When Sam finally nodded in understanding, Dean gave the younger boy a curt nod and went over to lean against the wall by the door waiting for Sam’s home room teacher to show up. As soon as they did, Dean would have to head to his own homeroom class for attendance and then come back to pick up Sam after. He had a feeling during the day he was going to be late to a few of his classes having to escort Sam to and from his, but it wasn’t that he really cared about that. Some of his teachers were real assholes though, and if they decided to give him detention for being late, that could definitely make keeping an eye on Sam a lot more difficult.

True to his word, Sam remained quiet, letting Dean actually think as he looked over the paper with the younger boy’s schedule on it and comparing it with his own. After a while a couple more students began to file in, and then finally the teacher. He looked surprised to see Dean standing there at the door, but didn’t say anything to him or ask him to leave. Yet anyway.

When a group of three boys walked in, their eyes immediately falling on Sam who’s attention was still focused outside, Dean’s eyes narrowed. Little bastards were starting in right away. When they started to make their way over to Sam, Dean stepped away from the wall. Intercepting them before they’d even had the chance to take their seats next to the younger boy or begin heckling Sam.

“Back off.” Dean warned, standing next to Sam’s chair and putting a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. It was the only warning he was prepared to give. 

* * *

Sam saw Dean head for the door and figured Dean considered him safe even though the teacher hadn't shown up yet. When instead of leaving Dean leaned against the wall the breath didn't even realizing he'd been holding whispered past his lips. He watched students arriving and concentrated on recalling their names and where they fit in the social order if he knew. He saw Randell. Randell was in his third and fifth period class. He identified others as he saw them, some who were in his classes, some among those that Eric had introduced him to, and those that had worked him over the day before. He was good with names and faces which was good since with the uniforms, there was no other way that he could watch for them. He saw Eric; Eric knew he was in this homeroom and in days past Sam would smile and wave at him sometimes. This time he saw Eric look in, a scowl on his face. The scowl deepened when some kid—Jeffrey, Sam thought was his name—walked up to Eric and tell him something. With the fury he saw cross Eric's face he knew it was that Sam had been seen with Dean.

He had noticed the kids in the yard earlier and Dean walked him to his locker. He had simply chosen to ignore their presence the same way they ignored his. But he hadn't missed their surprised looks. He wondered if it was because Dean was playing body guard, or if it was because he wasn't with Eric, or maybe if it was shock because Sam was stupid enough to come back to school after the previous day's beatings.

He heard the first couple kids come into the room and watching their reflections in the windows saw they were startled by Dean's presence and baffled by it, though a few eyes came to rest on him. He watched Dean's reflection discreetly. When his homeroom teacher finally showed up he expected his bodyguard to slip out the door, but he didn't. The teacher was here now. Of course the teacher was a real jerk and didn’t like him. Had as much said Sam didn't belong in the school, not matter how smart he was. He doubted if the teacher would step in unless one of his classmates started whaling on him. He would probably ignore a well placed fist to his ribcage.

He heard the voices first. Steffin and Dallas and Michael. They had laid into him yesterday. He watched for their reflections and saw them come through the door and spot him. Odds were they wouldn't punch him, probably anyhow. But if one of them 'tripped' and put an elbow to his face, well gosh it was just bad luck. He was already to slide his foot out and trip Steffin, the one most likely to take a shot at him, when he felt the hand on his shoulder. He jumped a little. He had been too busy watching Steffin to have noticed Dean had slipped up to his side.

He gave the boys a grim smile. He wanted to be smug about it, but best not push his luck. Dean wouldn't be sitting by him. The smile would let them know that he and Dean had obviously established an arrangement and not to fuck with Sam or they'd be fucking with Dean. He positively ate it up when the boys did exactly what Dean told them. They backed off, clear to the other side of the room, murmuring between them. Dallas started to head out the door.

"He already knows," Sam called after him. Dallas stopped and looked over his shoulder at Sam. "No need to run and tell your master. Jeffrey beat you to it. Though if you want to waste the breath and be late to class…" Sam gave a slight shrug, "be my guest."

With a glare, the dark haired boy left the classroom.

Mr. Jenkins, the teacher, turned his gaze on Dean. "You point has been made Mr. Winchester. Get to your homeroom," he said in that annoying nasal voice he had. His eyes flicked to Sam, disgust clear in them. "At least you run with your own, now," Mr. Jenkins said to Sam.

"You ought to know," Sam said with a slight smile. "Go Rams."

He'd be surprised if anyone else in the class knew the reference to Oakley High School's mascot. Why would any of the rich kids bother to know anything about one of the school's in the poor section of a town thirty miles away? He gave the teacher a final look that said very clearly if the teacher pushed him, he would make certain everyone knew what his reference meant. He had stumbled across the fact Mr. Jenkins had graduated from there and not very high in his class apparently, quite by accident when he was working on a report a month beforehand. He had been shocked, but it kind of made more sense why Mr. Jenkins singled him out to lambaste on a regular basis. The bastard had married into money and Sam would bet a hundred bucks that was the only reason he had his job at Chalmers. 

* * *

Dean smirked when the other boys retreated, practically running away with their tails between their legs. He said nothing when one of the boys headed for the door. Just watching them, and they were watching him with unmistakable wariness just like everyone else in the room now was. Except for Sam of course who was sitting there quite calmly with Dean's hand still on his shoulder.

The young man's eyes finally swung to the teacher's when the older man practically told him to get the fuck out. Dean's eyes narrowed a bit, especially at the bastard's tone, though it was all he could do to keep from bursting out laughing at Sam's remark and the impressive shades of red the asshole teacher was turning in response.

Dean didn't leave just yet though, because his point hadn't been made. Not yet anyway. He leaned down close to Sam's ear, and though he spoke low his voice was easily heard in the now utterly silent classroom.

"Let me know if anyone gives you any trouble." Dean told Sam before he straightened, gave the younger boy's shoulder a light squeeze, then headed for the door. Smirking at the group of students who'd been standing in the doorway that nearly tripped over each other in their hurry to get out of his way. He heard the whispers break out behind him as he headed towards his own home room and he had a feeling by the time second period rolled around everyone in this damned school would have gotten his message.

No one better lay a hand on Sam Colt.

* * *

First and second period went smoothly for Sam. He watched in private amazement as students got out of their way. He had never had anything like it happen to him before. Then again, he had never had the shit kicked out of him for an entire day either. Sam kept his smile to himself for the most part, trying to be nonchalant about it. He wasn't use to having someone shadow his every step and that was a little strange and was going to take some getting used to. As Dean had told him to, he kept his mouth shut for the most part. The most he did was ask what class Dean had next or tell him if he needed to stop at his locker. Dean had interceded when one kid tried to bump into Sam in the hall. Dean had been in front of him instantly and deflected the would be attacker into some lockers. Hard. Dean immediately dropped back behind him and had to nudge him to start walking again. Sam hadn't been able to see exactly what Dean had done but decided that would be one of the first things he wanted to learn. He reached his third period class. The teacher was inside and smiled at Sam. He was one of the few teachers who didn't seem to care that Sam wasn't a rich kid. The teacher's eyes flicked to Dean and arched an eyebrow as his gaze came back to rest on Sam. He looked mildly surprised but gave a nod to Dean.

"They'll be no problems in here, Dean," Mr. Fressin promised him.

Dean's gaze swept over the half full and very silent class room then after resting his hand lightly on Sam's shoulder and squeezing it, making it perfectly clear Sam was under his protection, he turned and left. Sam went to his seat and sat down stiffly. He needed to take some more aspirin but decided it would have to wait until lunch. He wasn't about to not follow Dean's directions just to go get a drink of water. He was a little surprised when Randall sat down next to him.

"Word's all over campus," Randall said quietly. "Definitely a scary alternative to Eric but Winchester is probably the only one who could sponsor you and stand up to Eric. The rumors about him though…" Randall shuddered.

"Sponsoring me?" Sam said then started to deny it. Then again, best he didn't. "Yeah. Not exactly intentional, but it just worked out that way. Tell me about Dean. I don't really know much other than everyone seems terrified of him and that he took on Eric and his buddies and won."

Randall's raised eyebrows practically touched his hairline. "You don't know?" Randall whistled as he exhaled. "Lots of rumors about the guy. Some say he killed his parents and burnt his house down when he was just a kid. Lives out at the junkyard with that strange old guy. He's got some fucked up symbols on the inside of his locker door, devil worship stuff."

Sam recalled what he had seen at Bobby's. Crap he had wanted to be wrong.

"People have seen blood smeared on his car sometimes, so you know, probably animal sacrifices and stuff. A couple girls went missing a few years ago and cops were seen out at the junkyard, probably searching it for the bodies. The girls were never found." Randall shook his head. "Winchester never walks with anyone and has never sponsored anyone. No one would be crazy enough to…I mean, he just, he's dangerous. People have tried to get him kicked out a few times but the principal won't let them. They say the principal changed a few weeks before Winchester started attending, got kind of strange habits now that he didn't have before, you know, like maybe a spell was cast on him or something." Randall tilted his head and stared at the young man. "So…you seen anything?"

Laughing softly, despite the fact a cold weight had settled into his gut, he said, "Dean's a normal teenager, just…moody. Cooks a mean cheeseburger and fries too. Likes hard rock. Has a great…well I guess Bobby's his step dad or something. Seemed kinda rude to ask. Bobby collects old books, a lot of them religious, so maybe that's where some of those rumors come from." Sam shrugged. "I don't really care what he's into so long as he doesn't expect me to be part of it, and believe me, he doesn't. I didn't see anything weird out at the junkyard," Sam lied. "I dunno, ask me again in a couple weeks. I'll have been there more often then."

Randall chewed on his lip and asked hesitantly, "Does he…is he okay to you as a…sponsor?"

Sam stared at the younger boy a minute, surprised by the concern in the freshman's face, then Sam looked away. "He's short tempered, but he would never lay a hand on me. Not like Eric. Not like what a lot of the others have said or done or tried to do." Sam realized he meant that, not that Dean was actually sponsoring him…was he?

He was just being his bodyguard, was just looking out for him for a few weeks until he had taught Sam to defend himself. Didn’t anyone ever tell you nothing is free in this world, Sammy? Eric's voice taunted him. Then he heard his his own voice as he taunted Dean, Hey Dean, wanna be my sponsor? I am a virgin and all. You getting there first would sure as hell piss off Eric.

Oh, crap.

He looked back at Randall and gave him a strained smile. "He's better than Eric."

* * *

Just as he’d promised, Dean had returned to Sam’s homeroom after the bell rang and took the younger boy to his next class. Other than the fact that he was shadowing Sam’s every step, it was a pretty normal day for him. Sure there were a few differences. Instead of people rushing to get out of his way, they rushed to get out of their way. Most of the time people were content to ignore his presence, but today people got quiet when they approached and the whispers started up as they passed. But other than that it was pretty normal.

He’d known it wouldn’t last. But the one boy who’d gotten up the nerve to try to mess with Sam when they’d been walking down the hall would definitely think twice before trying something that stupid again. So would anyone else for that matter. He walked close behind Sam and kept an eye on everyone around them as they walked down the halls or through the campus grounds, but no one bothered them again.

At least, not until right before lunch when Eric and his ‘buddies’ finally caught up with Dean outside as he was making his way back to Sam’s classroom to pick the other boy up. At first, Dean didn’t even bother acknowledging the other boy, ready to walk right past him. When Eric and his friends blocked his path however, Dean stopped, and it suddenly got very quiet even though a crowd was beginning to gather around them. Keeping a pretty good distance away from the four boys, of course.

Dean didn’t say anything, though the glare he gave the other boys spoke volumes. His silence seemed to throw Eric for a few moments, however. If Eric was waiting for _him_ to start something, he was going to be disappointed. Dean was fully prepared to finish it however.

When someone in the crowd started snickering, followed by others, Eric finally seemed to shore up his resolve and snapped.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Winchester?” Eric said hotly. When Dean only continued to stare at him, he could practically see the other boy’s blood pressure rising as Eric got more pissed off and finally blurted out, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Colt!”

“Or what?” Dean finally replied, taking a step forward and smirking a little when Adam and Cody instinctively took a step back, even though Eric held his ground.

“He’s none of your business. You think you’re some kind of bad ass. But everyone knows you’re just a freak of nature. One of these days they’re going to lock you up and throw away the key if you’re not careful.” Eric taunted him, and Dean only gave the other boy a dark smile.

“Want me to give them a reason to right now?” Dean asked, his tone pitched low and threatening and predictably the other boy’s eyes flashed with nervousness even though he didn’t back down. Yet. Eric knew he couldn’t back down and lose face in front of so many people watching. Dean also knew that Eric wouldn’t openly challenge him here and risk losing in front of so many people either. It was starting to make him nervous if Eric was purposefully keeping him occupied. He needed to get to Sam now.

Dean started to walk past the other boy again, and when Eric tried to get in front of him again, Dean moved faster. Grabbing his wrist and wrenching his arm up back behind him, twisting it painfully so. He could easily break the other boy’s arm right here and right now, and he wanted Eric to make sure he knew it. Dean gave Adam and Cody a dark look when it looked like the two other boys would step in and they hesitated. Just long enough for Dean to make his point before shoving the bastard away from him hard right into his two chicken friends.

Some faculty members were approaching, obviously wondering what all the fuss was about.

“You’re going to fucking regret this, Winchester!” Eric hissed, holding his bruised wrist. Dean’s mouth twisted again into a dark smile.

“Not before you.” He answered and pushed his way through the crowd that quickly parted for him just as the teachers arrived demanding what was going on. Dean quickened his steps as he headed for Sam’s classroom. 

* * *

The bell rang and the students poured out of the room, heading for the lunch room or the parking lot. The teacher waited for Sam to get up and join the others. "Time for lunch Mr. Colt," Mr. Fressin said.

Reluctantly Sam picked up his backpack and got to his feet. "I'm waiting on Dean. He should be here any time now."

"I'm sorry Sam, I have to lock up and I need to go," the teacher said apologetically.

"You mind if I walk with you?"

"I'm headed to the faculty parking lot. I always have lunch with my wife on Wednesdays. Won't Dean come here looking for you?"

Slowly, Sam nodded. Shit. Sam headed out the door and looked around. Boys were throwing their things in lockers and rushing off. Mr. Fressin locked the door to his class and headed down the hallway. Sam saw other faculty locking their doors and heading away as well.

The water fountain was just up the hall. He kept his back to the wall as he dug in his pack and pulled out two aspirin. No one seemed to be paying him any mind and he didn't see anyone that had pummeled him the day before. He walked slowly toward the water fountain, keeping his eyes open, watchful. He gave the bathroom door a wide berth and approached the water fountain. He popped the pills in his mouth and gave a final look around. He quickly took a couple gulps of water and swallowed the pills. Sliding his hand in his pocket he wrapped his hand around the pouch of quarters and headed back to the classroom. The next thing he knew someone slammed into him. He stumbled in to the wall gasping as his bruises complained. The classroom door beside him opened and he was pulled inside. He took a right to the jaw and saw stars, practically falling over a desk. His book bag slid down his arm. Straightening, ignoring the pain in his ribs, he swung the back pack blindly, feeling it connect and someone let out with a curse. A punch in his back dropped him to his bad knee and he let out with a cry of pain. The backpack was ripped from him and an arm snaked around his throat, tightening. A senior from the basketball team, Mark, shoved a desk out of the way, moving in front of Sam as a smile curved his lips.

"Not so tough without your guard dog," he sneered.

"Not so tough without your buddies," Sam hissed back, pulling at the arm around his throat ineffectively.

Sam was yanked to his feet and Mark punched him in the gut. Sam would have doubled over if he wasn't being held. When Mark came in a second time to punch him again, Sam gave him a left hook, the pouch of quarters wrapped inside his fist, and elbowed the guy behind him, but the guy held on, tightening the arm around his throat to the point Sam was having trouble drawing a breath. Blood dribbled from the corner of Mark's mouth and fury lit his eyes.

"You fucking bitch," Mark seethed and slammed his fist into Sam's face. Sam sagged, groaning. Mark wrapped his fingers in the younger boy's hair and jerked his head up. "You listen to me you rotting sac of pus. You're Eric's little bitch. You dump that junkyard trash and go back to him. You don't and we get you," he snarled and grabbed hold of Sam's cock and squeezed hard. "We'll all get our turn fucking that lily white ass of yours."

Sam heard the door open and sharp whistle. Mark punched him again. "Hear you're a cock slut too. Looking forward to fucking your mouth bitch."

The next thing Sam knew he was face down on the floor and the room was empty.

* * *

  
Dean had broken into an all out run by the time he reached the hallway where Sam’s classroom was. Bobby always said that he had good instincts, and right now they were screaming that something was wrong. God damn it. He had let Eric occupy him for too damned long. The hallways had cleared out too damned fast. Everyone was heading towards the cafeteria, gathering in groups outside, or heading off campus for lunch. He had seen Sam’s teacher heading towards the parking lot and Dean cursed aloud.

When he finally reached the hallway where Sam’s last class was, he didn’t see the younger boy. What he did see was a group of boys leaving a classroom, and when they caught sight of them they all took off down the hallway in the opposite direction at a dead run. The unease in his stomach morphed into rage in no time flat, but if possible fear and guilt settled in his gut even stronger.

He was afraid of what he would find in that classroom…

While a part of him wanted nothing more than to chase after the little bastards, Dean ran to the classroom door instead. He stopped dead seeing Sam laying there on the floor and cursed loudly. He

“Motherfucker!” Dean wasn’t sure if he was cursing Eric or himself.

Dean rushed to Sam’s side and dropped down on his knees next to the younger boy. He had let this happen… god damn it…

“Sam?”

He gently helped Sam roll over onto his side so he could assess the damage. The fresh blood on Sam’s lips and the pain in the younger boy’s eyes had him seeing red. He was going to kill those fucking bastards…

* * *

He heard Dean's voice and the curse that accompanied it. He agreed whole heartedly with the sentiment. Hearing his name he opened his eyes and then with Dean's help he rolled on his side. He coughed, getting the blood out of his throat that had started to roll there from his mouth.

"Help me sit up," Sam said and blood and saliva spilled down his chin. He groaned as he wrapped his arm around his gut. His head still rang from the wicked blows he had taken. His left eye was all but swollen shut already. He wiped at the blood with the back of his The look of anger and guilt was plain on Dean's face. He briefly wondered how pissed Dean was at him for not doing as Dean had said.

"I shoulda stayed at my classroom door. Might have put up a better fight," Sam said softly. "Nailed me from behind. Went for water to take aspirin. Stupid. Thought I was being careful." He turned his head from Dean and spat coppery blood out of his mouth. His head was beginning to clear a little now that he was sitting up. It was little consolation that Mark had only hit him once in the stomach or that he had nailed someone with his back pack and punched Mark once.

"Help me get up and take me to your place. I'm done for the day," Sam said and began to climb unsteadily to his feet, his knee not at all happy when he put weight on it. He did not want to go home. He was certain no one would come to the salvage yard. He wasn't so confident about his house. He just wanted to get some ice on his face and lay down.  


* * *

Dean frowned in concern when he saw the younger boy actually _cough up_ blood. It could be just from his mouth… he hoped it was just from his mouth… If those fucking bastards had hit Sam in the gut hard enough to do internal damage… no, they couldn’t have. Sam wouldn’t be able to move at all if that was the case. Sure he needed Dean’s help in order to sit up, but he was able to stay sitting up with no problem. Dean wanted to check Sam over thoroughly just in case, but he certainly couldn’t do it here.

His hands clenched into fists at his side as his eyes took in every new bruise on Sam’s face. Dean cursed himself as a fucking idiot for so easily falling for Eric’s stupid game. He should have been here, damn it. He had known something wasn’t right. He should have gotten here sooner…

He was going to make those little bastards regret ever laying a hand on Sam. They were going to be wishing they’d never even _looked_ at the younger boy by the time Dean was through with them.

When Sam said he was ready to go, Dean nodded in understanding. He would have suggested it even if Sam didn’t. Dean grabbed the younger boy’s bag and then helped Sam onto his feet. But seeing how hard it was for the younger boy to even stand up, Dean made a decision.

“Put your arms around my neck.” He told Sam, not really giving the younger boy the opportunity to refuse, before he lifted him into his arms in a ‘bridal carry’. This way they’d be able to get out of here quicker and there wasn’t any reason for Sam to try to make the trek when he was already in enough pain. 

* * *

Sam wasn't real happy when Dean left his side and he felt himself sway a little on his feet. He watched as Dean grabbed his back pack. Oh yeah, that was probably good. He didn't really want to carry it though and was glad that Dean shouldered it. He realized he still clutched the pouch of quarters in his hand and after fumbling a moment, got the small bag back in his pocket. He was certain it had helped add power when he punched Mark. And he had nailed someone with his pack. Two small and insignificant victories, but victories all the same. At Dean's words he looked a blankly at the senior. Dean guided one of Sam's arms to his shoulder and then Dean swept him up and he wrapped the other arm around Dean's neck, the young man's words finally sinking in. He rested his cheek against his own arm.

He was being carried like a chick or like a child. He wanted to complain, he wanted to tell Dean to put him down. But his knee ached. His head ached. His face ached. His gut ached. Dean's arm across the bruises on his back wasn't real comfortable, but he decided it was the lesser of the evils. At least Dean didn't throw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but he didn't think his stomach and ribs could have handled that.

Well, if there was any doubt in anybody's mind that Dean was his sponsor this would certainly confirm it. He hoped Dean wasn't going to take him to the school nurse or doctor or whatever they had here. He just wanted off campus, away from everyone. He didn’t want his parents called either. Though maybe it would wake his father up to the fucked up situation at school.

He ground his teeth with every bit of jarring Dean gave him, though he knew Dean was trying to be careful. He heard a few things said as they crossed the campus, mostly Oh, shit, or stuff like that. He tightened his arms around Dean's neck when Dean told him to and heard the car door open. Dean eased him into the front seat. He wondered why Dean didn't lay him down in back and then realized every time Dean stopped or started he'd be flopping around like a rag doll. He let his head hang forward a little. Blood was still dripping from his nose a little and he wiped it away. Maybe it would be easier to simply go back to Eric.

Don't wimp out on me now, Sam. Yeah. If he didn't have Dean looking after him, he was pretty certain he would have. He'd have gone back to Eric and done whatever the senior wanted. He had no doubt Mark would keep his promise about the basketball team fucking him bloody otherwise. He had no doubt the beatings would continue. Dean was his only hope to avoid that fate. If it meant being Dean's bitch, he still figured Dean would be better than Eric. If he wasn't, then he guessed he could always ask Eric to take him back. It would certainly make his father happy. He felt the tears slide down his face as Dean got in and started the car.  


* * *

The fact that Sam didn’t even put up a token protest to Dean carrying him like this was just another testament to how much pain the younger boy must be in right now. Every sharp inhaled breath Sam made, every soft noise of discomfort the other boy made no matter how gently Dean tried to carry him, only made the young man angrier.

He knew his expression had to be murderous as he carried Sam as quickly as he could through the campus to the parking lot. A lot of people stopped to gape at them as they passed, but Dean ignored them all. No one tried to stop them, not even to ask if Sam were alright.

Dean wasn’t sure, but that might have pissed him off even more.

When they finally reached the parking lot and the impala, he had Sam hold onto him a little tighter as he got the door open and the younger boy situated as comfortably as possible in the front seat. Dean didn’t waste any time going around to the driver’s side, getting in, and starting the car. He knew there would probably be hell to pay for the two of them just taking off like this in the middle of the day, but he didn’t really give a shit right now.

Dean lowered the volume of the stereo quite a bit before he pulled out of the parking space, and started to drive, however he put on the brakes again before they’d even left the parking lot. The reason? That god damned red Ferrari. Dean put the car into park.

“I’ll be right back.” He told the younger boy before he got out of the car.

Pulling a switchblade out of his pocket, Dean snapped it open and one by one he jammed the blade into each of the Ferrari’s tires. The hissing of the air out of the slashed tires satisfying, but he wasn’t done, not by a long shot. Giving Sam a grin, Dean leaned in through his window and popped the trunk of his car out of which he grabbed a crowbar.

There was no one in sight so Dean didn’t waste any time smashing all the windows and making several nice sized dents anywhere he could think to put them in the perfect paint job. Smiling when he was finished, Dean tossed the crowbar back into his trunk and got back in the car. 

* * *

Sam had to admit he was glad Dean turned down the stereo. His head hurt enough. He furrowed his brow when they stopped before hardly getting going and lifted his head as Dean got out. His gaze darted around the parking lot, fearful Eric and some of his cronies might be there trying to stop them. Sam wiped away his tears and watched as Dean slashed Eric's tires. When Dean took the crowbar out, Sam returned Dean's smile as best he could. He watched with great satisfaction Dean beating the hell out of Eric's car. He wished he was able to help. God he wished he was able to help. He enjoyed every thunk of metal against metal and the crunching sound made as Dean took out the windows. When he was better and Eric got back his fixed car or a new car, Sam decided fire might be good. Or filling it up with manure and supergluing the tires to the pavement. Sugar water in the gas tank. Or emptying all the fluids. Yeah. Eric would never have an intact, pretty car again if Sam had any say in the matter. And neither would Cody or Adam.

"Wish I coulda helped," Sam said. His lips were so swollen his words were more mumbled than anything, but he knew Dean understood him.

Sam stayed silent all the way to the salvage yard, absently noting how carefully Dean started and stopped at the stop signs and street lights. It helped but the rumbling of the engine really kind of hurt his head. He was very glad when they reached Dean's place. He pushed open the car door and tried to get up but he just hurt too much. He let Dean carry him inside and set him down on the couch. While Dean disappeared to get the first aid kit, Sam slowly pulled off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. He tried to lean over to get his shoes off, but the pounding in his head persuaded him that wasn't a great idea. He sank back into the couch and closed his eyes. Well, eye. He grimaced a little when he heard the light turned on beside the couch and it shone in his face.

"Ice, blanket, Tylenol, darkness. And my shoes off. That's all I need," Sam mumbled.  


* * *

Dean was glad that at least Sam had enjoyed watching him take the crowbar to that asshole’s car. He almost wanted to stick around, just so that they could see the look on Eric’s fucking face when he saw what had been done to his ‘beloved’ red Ferrari. Dean knew it wouldn’t so much be a blow to Eric’s wallet the repairs would cost him, but the blow to his pride. It wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a start.

He wished Sam could have helped him too, but at least the younger boy’s eyes didn’t look quite as defeated now. As Dean watched the younger boy out of the corner of his eye as he drove, he promised himself that he’d give Sam the opportunity to beat the ever loving shit out of Eric. Give the fucking prick a taste of his own medicine.

Until that time, Dean would happily do the honors for Sam. Those little bastards that had worked Sam over today. He was going to have Sam give him their names, if he knew them, or point them out if he didn’t. He was going to track the little fuckers down and have them begging for their mommies by the time Dean was done with them. He would have loved to go after them right now, but it would have to wait. He had to take care of Sam first.

Dean tried to drive slowly and more carefully than normal, but he could tell the drive was still taking a toll on the younger boy. Maybe he should just take him to the hospital instead… but Sam hadn’t asked for that. Sam had asked him to take him back to his place, so that’s what he’d do.

When they got to the salvage yard, the tow truck was gone again, and maybe that was a good thing. Not that he thought that Bobby would have given him much flack for skipping school given the circumstances, but he’d rather just worry about taking care of Sam right now than explaining what had happened and why.

Again, Dean lifted Sam up into his arms without asking and the younger boy didn’t complain as he carried him into the house and helped him sit on the couch.

“I’ll be right back.” He told the younger boy gently and hurried into the kitchen. Grabbing a towel and loading it up with ice, a glass of water, and the big first aid kit he returned to Sam. He set down the first aid kit on the floor with a small chuckle as the younger boy listed off what he wanted. Dean opened up the first aid kit and grabbed some painkillers.

“I’ve got something better than Tylenol. It will make you a little drowsy but you should probably get some rest anyway.” Dean said, giving Sam the pills and glass of water. Waiting for the younger boy to take them before he helped Sam lay down on the couch, then moved to Sam’s feet to help him take off his shoes like the younger boy asked.

“Just let me check you out, then you can sleep. Try not to move.” He told the younger boy, taking out his knife again and went to work using it to cut off the bandages wrapped around Sam’s chest. Knowing it would be a lot easier on Sam to just do that than having Sam sit up so he could remove them. The bruising around Sam’s chest and stomach was worse, of course, but not as bad as Dean had feared. He ran his fingers carefully over Sam’s chest and stomach, just to make sure.

“I’ll mummify you again later.” Dean told Sam with a slight smile, satisfied nothing was broken and Sam wasn’t bleeding internally or anything. He grabbed some gauze out of the first aid kit then, wet it down, and started cleaning off Sam’s face as gently as he could. He also smeared some antibiotic cream on the worst cuts that would also help dull the pain, and finally handing Sam the towel with ice. When he was done Dean stood up and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and laid it carefully over the younger boy.

* * *

Sam didn't even ask what the pills were. He didn't care. He just wanted his face and head to stop throbbing. He tossed them back and grunted as Dean helped him lay down. He was really glad to get his shoes off. He watched with a little trepidation as Dean pulled out his knife. Dean only used it to cut layer after layer of the wrapping around his ribs free. It actually felt kinda good to get them off, made him feel like he could breathe a little easier. He couldn't help but flinch at Dean's touch. His fingers were icy cold.

When Dean brought the wet gauze up to wipe his face clean of the blood, he hoped Dean couldn't tell he'd been crying. He just watched Dean dully, pretty much ignoring the pain. Whimpering that it hurt wasn't going to make it not hurt and the young man was being as gentle as possible, he knew. The blanket the senior draped over him was fluffy flannel, not too thick, not too thin. He put the ice up against his eye.

"My knee. Would you check it too?" Sam asked. He really thought it was still just badly bruised, but Dean seemed to know what he was doing. Reluctantly he reached down and undid his pants. He didn't want the pants cut, but with the wrap on the knee, Dean wasn't going to be able to get the pants leg up. Grunting, he squirmed out of his pants beneath the blanket and dropped them on the floor. He heard the soft clink as the pouch of quarters it the pocket struck the wood. Pulling back the blanket he exposed his wrapped knee and watched as Dean carefully cut through the wrap there too, the last of it sticking to the skin a little as it came off bloody. He thought his knee had landed on something sharp in the classroom, maybe a pebble or something but the blow to his face had made it a minor concern. He was relieved to see it looked only a little swollen. He watched Dean clean away the blood and then prod at it. Yeah he hissed a little, but there was no lancing pain. He saw just a bead or two of blood bubble up from Dean's exam and the pulling away of the bandage. The cut or split in the skin or whatever, didn’t seem to be bad. Good, he sure as hell didn't want stitches on his knee. Dean finished cleaning it up then got him some more ice. By that time Sam was having trouble staying awake. He stopped fighting it and let himself drift into the blissful darkness of sleep.

* * *

Dean nodded when Sam asked him to check his knee and watched as the younger boy worked on getting his pants off. He would have helped, considering Sam seemed to be having difficulty, but something in the younger boy’s determined look on his face stopped him. Maybe Sam just felt like he needed to do something for himself, or maybe he didn’t trust Dean enough to let him take his pants off. Whatever reason, Dean decided not to offer his help unless Sam asked for it.

When the younger boy moved the blanket to expose his knee to Dean, the young man knelt down beside the couch and took out his knife again. He easily cut off the wrappings around Sam’s swollen knee. Being even more careful as he removed them when he saw the blood staining the bandages.

The cut wasn’t bad however, probably thanks to the wrappings. In fact, aside from the blood, Sam’s knee looked a little less swollen than yesterday. Dean cleaned away the blood and carefully checked Sam’s knee. Again satisfied that there was no additional damage, he wrapped it up again lightly. He’d put a tighter bandage on it again later but right now he wanted it to breathe a little.

He covered the younger boy up again and could see Sam’s eyes drooping as he put away the stuff he’d used in the first aid kit. He got up to make another bag of ice for Sam’s knee and when he returned, Sam’s eyes were closed. He sat down on the floor next to the couch again and put the ice over the younger boy’s knee. The fact that Sam didn’t even stir told him Sam was out like a light.

Dean stayed there, watching Sam sleep. Feeling guilt gnawing in his gut for allowing this to happen after he’d promised Sam he would protect him. It wouldn’t happen again… come hell or high water, Dean was going to make sure of that.

After a while he decided since he was home he might as well get some work done. Before he did he got up and checked the ice pack over Sam’s eye. Satisfied it was doing some good Dean brushed the wet strands of Sam’s hair gently off of the younger boy’s forehead before he went to change and went outside. Though Dean made sure to come back in every fifteen minutes or so to check on Sam. 

* * *

It was ten till two and Bobby was a little pissed. Mostly he was pissed because he was hungry. The tow he had been called out for, picking up an old car for scrap, turned out to be a classic car about half restored. The wife had been the one to call but her name wasn't on the title. Her husband's was. And her husband was the one restoring it. Since it was getting more attention than she was, as well as all his extra cash, she had called Bobby to haul it away. She demanded Bobby wait until her husband arrived and gave him a hundred to that end. He turned up the radio in the old truck when the guy finally got there and the fighting started. Finally the husband caved and told Bobby he could take it. Bobby wasn't ten minutes up the road, already contemplating what he might be able to sell the classic for, when the guy caught up with him. The guy paid him another hundred plus the tow fee to haul the car half way across town to a storage unit. He had to wait for the guy to actually rent the storage unit then put the car inside. He had made some cash, no doubt about it, a good three hundred dollars, but he'd run out of coffee and was hungry, and well, just flat out grumpy.

When he pulled onto the drive and saw Dean's car parked there in the middle of the school day, his mood didn't improve. He was going to throttle that boy. He thought they were long over this skipping out of school. He took a couple deep breaths. The boy better be sick as a dog or have a mighty fine reason for being home. And that reason best not be suspension.

He slammed the door to the truck and saw Dean working out in the yard, sorting scrap. He wasn't sick then.

"Tell me you have one helluva good reason for not being in school right now," Bobby said walking up to him, glaring.

* * *

Dean had heard Rumsfeld bark, but he hadn’t paid the dog much mind. His thoughts were already too busy on other things. That god damned school. Eric. Those little bastards he’d seen running away from the classroom. Sam… his thoughts always came back to Sam. Seeing the younger boy lying there on the floor, bleeding and not moving. Lying there, even more bruised and beaten to hell than he had been before, because Dean hadn’t done his job. Hadn’t kept his promise, hadn’t kept Sam safe... Sure, he couldn’t be expected to be everywhere at once, but he should have been able to at least keep his god damned promise for one day. They hadn’t even gotten through one fucking day without Sam getting the shit kicked out of him!

Clearly they needed to work out some kind of different plan… but he really didn’t know what. Maybe he had just been stupid enough to believe that his reputation alone would have kept Sam safe. Sure, most of the students were afraid of him, and he was left alone. But it hadn’t stopped those little bastards from going after Sam even with the younger boy obviously under his ‘protection’.

It probably wouldn’t help that he had let the little fucks get away with it today. But he couldn’t just chase them down and leave Sam alone. Not that he planned on letting them get away with it tomorrow, but whatever rumors were already spreading about what had happened to Sam and the fact that the boys who’d done the deed had gotten away with it would definitely only make his job harder.

The sound of Bobby’s angry voice from behind him startled him a little (Fuck, maybe he really was going soft) but he turned and met the older man’s angry glare evenly. He had expected Bobby to be pissed off, after all, so he wasn’t at all taken aback by it. Yeah, he had a reason. Whether or not Bobby would consider it a good one, was anyone’s guess though.

“Some assholes jumped Sam before lunch and he wasn’t in any shape to stay there… so we left. He’s in the living room resting.” Dean explained short and sweet. 

* * *

Bobby saw the smoldering anger in Dean's eyes and when he heard the explanation he felt his jaw clench. Hadn't that kid been put through enough? He turned and strode toward the house. He entered it quietly and looked in on the young teen. Jesus fucking Christ. He went in and knelt by the young man, looking him over. He hoped the rest of the boy wasn't as beat up as his face. He lifted the blanket and saw the bruises coating Sam's chest and stomach. He pulled back the blanket over Sam's legs and saw the wrapped knee, but otherwise, unmarred skin. He gently laid the blanket back over the boy and got to his feet.

He grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge and stepped back outside, waving Dean to join him on the steps. He handed Dean the cold beer then took a pull on his own. "That kid's going to end up in the hospital next time," Bobby said. He eyed Dean and could see the tension in his young charge. "I can call the principal, but don’t imagine it'll do much good, not against Lancaster." He sat in thought for a minute. Dean seemed to care about this young man. He'd seen Dean work his magic on women of any age and he had seen Dean give the occasional covert glance to a handsome young man. He wondered if Dean maybe had a thing for Sam, or if Dean was just picking up Bobby's habit of not being able to turn away a stray kicked one too many times. It didn't really matter to Bobby, he was just glad his 'adopted' boy was finally taking an interest in someone outside of himself and hunting, whatever the reason.

He gave a bit of a nod. "I'll call the principal, get you permission to leave your classes a few minutes early. You willing to look after him? Escort him from class to class? Try to keep the boy safe? Though maybe with this beating, his parents will pull him from the school. That'd be the damned sensible thing to do, though I'm not at all sure that would keep the kid safe from that rich little sonuvabitch. You've got an uneasy truce at that school Dean. This might wreck that for you. I'm not gonna be pissed if you say 'no' to this."

* * *

Dean watched Bobby, waiting for the older man’s response. Not sure what it would be. When Bobby simply turned and headed towards the house, he didn’t follow the older man, but his hand clenched around the sharp piece of scrap metal he was holding. He barely resisted the urge to hurl it at something, suddenly all of his anger and guilt over what had happened to Sam rushing to the surface again fresh and new.

It didn’t take long for Bobby to return and Dean let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding when the older man beckoned to him. Dean tossed down the scrap metal and approached the house, gratefully taking the beer that Bobby offered him. He could definitely use one right now.

Bobby’s assessment that the next time those little bastards laid into Sam the younger boy would end up in the hospital did not improve Dean’s mood at all. Unfortunately the older man was right. There was probably very little that the principal could do for Sam. Not against Lancaster’s family who every year made very generous donations to the school board. The principal had barely managed to keep him from getting expelled (at the very least) or arrested the last time Dean had a run in with Lancaster.

Dean’s deep scowl changed to an expression of surprise, at Bobby’s suggestion. Just those few extra minutes could make all the difference in his ability to look after Sam. Of course Bobby couldn’t know that he’d already tried to look after Sam today, and failed. But while he agreed with Bobby that it would probably be best for Sam all around if he didn’t go back to that fucking school, he was also afraid that Bobby was right about Lancaster. Now that he’d set his sights on Sam, he probably wouldn’t let up… not until he’d had Sam at least once, willing or not. At least if Sam kept going to that school, then Dean could keep looking after him.

“I was… trying to look after him today. I got there too late.” Dean admitted, averting his eyes guiltily as he took a long pull off his beer. The young man sighed and shrugged. Might as well tell Bobby everything, the older man was probably going to hear it sooner or later anyway.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already wrecked that ‘truce’. With a crowbar.” Even as he said it he couldn’t help but smirk thinking about the damage he’d done to Eric’s pretty little Ferrari. 

* * *

Bobby had to admit he was a little surprised Dean had been trying to watch over the sophomore. But when it was one man against Lord knew how many students doing Eric's bidding, it wasn't any surprise Dean had failed. Bobby would take demons to humans any fucking day of the week. At least you knew they were going to try to fuck you over.

When Dean mentioned the crowbar, Bobby groaned, hoping like hell no one had seen Dean do whatever he had done. Knowing Dean, it was probably trashing Lancaster's car. Everyone might suspect it, but so long as there wasn't any proof, they would be okay.

"Dean, you're going to have to be smart about this. These rich shits can get away with nailing you or Sam at school and risk little if any repercussions. You go out after them without it being self defense, and you're either expelled or in jail. You won't be a bit of good to that boy in there if either of those things happen. Even if it's in self defense I got a feeling that you and Sam's word against one or two of those rich snots ain't gonna mean a thing." Bobby took another pull on his beer. "Let me think on it." He slapped his thigh and pushed himself to his feet. "I ain't had lunch. Going to go fix up some BLTs for us. We prolly ought to wake Sammy about six and see when his parents are getting home. If he wakes up sooner, we should have the boy call one of them. And we need to make sure they have our number here since Sam seems to end up here every day. Don't think it would be wise for him to go home anytime in the near future without someone with him anyhow. I'm assuming you're going to be okay him coming here every day? Maybe you can teach that boy some fighting skills."

* * *

Dean frowned, but he knew Bobby was right. He might want to beat those little shits bloody right there in the middle of the campus, but he couldn’t risk being expelled or going to jail. Not that Dean had ever really cared about being expelled before. But now he actually had a reason not to be. Hell, even being suspended would be very bad, for Sam, if Dean wasn’t there…

He nodded when the older man said he’d think on it. If anyone could come up with an air tight plan, it was Bobby. Dean was glad that Bobby was on his side about this. Not that he thought the older man wouldn’t be at his back, but it was still good to know that Bobby wasn’t getting all bent out of shape about him skipping school, and whatever else Dean was going to have to do in the future, to keep both himself and Sam safe. Just telling him to be smart about it.

Sure, the older man was nothing if not practical. Dean knew that. But he also knew that Bobby had always really wanted him to graduate from that school ever since the principal had offered to let him go there. If things got as bad as Dean expected it might…

“Alright.” Dean agreed, giving the older man a nod when Bobby said he was going to make them some lunch. He had to admit, he was pretty hungry too. Dean wondered briefly if they should wake Sam up so that he could eat, but considering the beating the younger boy had gotten he might not be very hungry. Sleep was probably better for him right now.

Dean nodded again at Bobby’s suggestions that Sam stay with them after school and he teach the younger boy a little about fighting while he was at it. Seemed like they really were on the same page about this.

Dean got up and followed the older man inside, even though Bobby had just checked up on Sam, Dean went into the living room to look in on the younger boy himself. Sam was still sleeping like a baby. The ice packs definitely needed new ice at this point though, so Dean quickly did that while Bobby was frying up some bacon for their lunch. The young man also took the time to put a little more ointment on Sam’s cuts on his face and replaced the ice packs on his knee and over his eye. 

* * *

Sam slowly opened his eyes, trying to piece together where he was and why his face felt swollen like a balloon. He reached up and pulled the bag of ice off his face. He could feel something cold on his knee too. It all slowly came back to him. Oh, yeah, he got his ass kicked. Again.

Looking around the dim room, he could still see the books. Bobby's. He was at Bobby's again. That's right, he had asked Dean to bring him here. The view through the drapes told him it was still light outside, but probably late afternoon and he could smell the faint aroma of bacon. He didn't hear anything or anyone near by. With a soft groan he pushed himself to a sitting position. He was surprised the world didn't spin or his head didn't start throbbing again. Even so, he still felt like hell. Keeping the blanket wrapped around him he climbed unsteadily to his feet and staggered into the bathroom. After finishing his business he washed his hands, then limped back out to the living room. He peered at his watch. Five-thirty. He was sort of hungry and wandered out to the kitchen. He couldn't open his mouth very wide so maybe some soup would be good.

Dean wasn't in the kitchen. He went to the back door and pushed it open. He saw the tall senior sorting through piles of stuff. He sat down on the steps. He wasn't going to walk that far in just his undershorts and a blanket.

"Dean!" he called. When the teen looked up he waved. Maybe he could get Dean to make him some soup. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door opened behind him. He twisted and gasped and practically fell off the steps.

"Easy there, son," Bobby said. "Just me. Come on, let's get you back inside. And let's get some pants on you, okay? I'll wrap that knee first, but I don't need a customer showing up to find a teenager in his skivvies and stocking feet." He helped Sam up and guided him back inside to sit him down at the table. Bobby glanced up when Dean came in.

"Get the boy on some soup. Something he don't have to chew much on and nothing that'll burn or make him cough…yeah, probably ought to stick with chicken noodle soup. That okay with you, Sam?"

Sam gave him a nod. "Thank you, Bobby," he said as best he could.

Bobby patted him lightly on the shoulder. "That's okay, son. Glad we can help, just sorry you need it."

Bobby got a bandage out of the first aid kit in the living room and picked up Sam's pants and brought them in. After removing the loose wrap Dean had put on it, he put some fresh antibiotic cream on the cut and then wrapped Sam's knee. He helped Sam get his pants on and he felt a lot more comfortable now that the boy was decently clothed. "We ought to call your parents. Don’t want them worrying about you."

"Mom. Call Mom." Sam wrote the number down on a piece of paper Bobby handed him. "I can't talk real well. You call her? Or Dean?"

* * *

After lunch Dean had checked on Sam again before going back to work in the yard. Since Bobby had some work to do in his office, the older man said he’d keep an eye on the younger boy… so Dean didn’t have to keep checking on him all the time. Well, Dean had gotten a lot more work done, but he was surprised how hard it was to concentrate on it… and not going back inside to look in on Sam all the time.

It kind of irritated him. That he couldn’t seem to take his mind off of Sam for five fucking minutes even though he knew Bobby was watching out for him. Sam would be fine. Yeah, he was bruised as hell, but they were just bruises. Not like he’d gotten shot or stabbed or clawed or anything. Sam would be just fine after a couple days of rest. It looked worse than it really was. He needed to quit fucking worrying like a damned mother hen.

It was just because he was feeling guilty. Responsible… and Sam just looked so fucking… helpless… fuck…

The sound of his name drew Dean out of his thoughts and he turned around in surprise. Even more surprising though was how the knot in his chest Dean hadn’t even realized was there loosened just a little seeing Sam up an around, even if he definitely wasn’t at one hundred percent. Hell, probably not even at fifty percent. But better. That’s all that mattered.

Dean dropped what he was doing and jogged to the porch. Following as Bobby helped Sam inside and into a chair in the kitchen. He nodded when the older man told him to get some soup ready for Sam, chicken noodle, well there were plenty cans of that. Dean went over to the cupboard and took out a can and a pan to heat it up in.

He opened the can and started heating up the soup, glancing over his shoulder occasionally as Bobby wrapped up Sam’s knee and helped the younger boy back into his clothes. When Bobby suggested that they should call Sam’s parents, and Sam gave the older man the number, Dean shook his head slightly at the idea of _him_ calling Sam’s mom. Like the woman would really want to talk to him, he’s the one who allowed this to happen to her son after all.

“She’d probably rather talk to you.” Dean told Bobby quickly before turning his attention back to the soup he was heating up. 

* * *

Bobby glared at Dean’s back. The boy had no self esteem when it came to certain aspects of himself. Getting passed around for eleven years…yeah, he really couldn’t blame the teen, and he couldn’t blame the teen for not wanting to talk to ‘adults’ though Dean was nineteen and legally an adult. He knew the only reason Dean was making an effort to graduate was because Bobby dangled teaching him more hunting skills and taking him on hunts in front of him.

“What’s her name?” Bobby asked.

“Keiko Colt.”

Bobby gave a nod and headed back toward his office. He snorted a little to himself. He was a hunter who was watching over a Winchester and a Colt. There was just something funny about that.

Bobby settled into his chair and called the woman.

“Keiko speaking,” the woman said after he punched in her extension.

“Hello, Mrs. Colt. This is Bobby Singer, I’m Dean’s guardian. I wanted to let you know your boy is at my place again. He was jumped at lunchtime by some of his class mates. Dean had been trying to keep an eye on your son, but the boys got to Sam before Dean did.”

“Is Sam okay?” she asked, concern clear in her voice. “Why didn’t the school call?”

“He took some nasty hits to his face. Hard to tell if he was hit anywhere else considering the bruises he already had. Dean brought him home, our home. I don’t know all the details yet. Sam just woke up and for as swollen as his face his, he’s having a little trouble talking. Dean’s not big on details, not big on talking, honestly. He tends to keep it short and to the point. We’re feeding Sam some soup right now. I can have Dean bring him home or do you want to pick him up? What time will you or your husband be home?”

“I think I’ll pick him up,” Keiko said. She wanted to see where her son kept ending up and wanted to see Dean in his element. In her house, he seemed very uncomfortable. And she wanted to meet Mr. Singer. “I’m assuming you’re the Singer of Singer Salvage?”

“Yessum.”

“Okay. I know where you are.” She had already looked up the addresses of the junkyards around town. She had made notes and saw that Singer Salvage had a five star rating as far as a business to deal with and was a Better Business Bureau member. “I’ll be there in about a half hour.”

“I’ll make sure he’s ready to go.”

Bobby walked back out to the kitchen. The bowl of soup was in front of Sam and he was slowly eating, though Bobby could tell from his face that some of the salt from it got into Sam's split lip. Yeah, Campbell's was bad for salt. "Yer mom'll be here in about a half hour to pick you up."

"She wants to check you out," Sam mumbled.

Bobby chuckled. "Yeah, I kinda figured."

"She likes tea," Sam offered.

"Does she now?" Bobby said, amused at Sam's subtle way of telling him Mrs. Colt would probably want to talk with him for a few minutes. "Well maybe I can have some tea ready for her arrival. With a name like Keiko, I assume she's Japanese?"

"Third generation American, but Dad's the first non-Japanese in the family. We have family back in Japan." Sam scooped up the napkin and caught he soup that dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be making you talk. You eat. Dean, help me pick up the living room since we've got company coming."

* * *

While Bobby was gone Dean finished heating up Sam’s soup, making sure it wasn’t too hot so that the younger boy could eat it easily without it burning his mouth or anything. Sam’s mouth had to be damned sensitive by now.

Dumping the soup contents into a plastic bowl he brought it over to the table and set it down in front of Sam. Only once he had, and Sam began eating, Dean found himself a bit at a loss at what to do now. The younger boy would probably only feel uncomfortable if Dean stood here and watched him eat. But at the same time Dean found himself a bit reluctant to just leave Sam alone. Which was utterly stupid, it wasn’t like the younger boy was going to choke on his soup or anything if Dean let him out of his sight.

Before the moment could become too awkward thankfully, Bobby returned. Sam’s mom was on her way. That was good. Dean figured he should probably make himself scarce before she got here. But when Bobby asked him to pick up the living room real quick before she got here, he nodded without complaint and headed into the other room.

The first aid kit was still out even though he’d put its contents away, and that was the first thing he put away. The room itself was actually pretty clean, Bobby might be a bachelor and everything, but he definitely didn’t like a messy house. Sure there was clutter, books and papers and stuff piled about, but the house wasn’t _dirty_.

Dean straightened up as best he could though, gathering up some of the papers and books that they definitely didn’t want lying around out in the open with ‘company’ coming. Damn it, he probably should have put them away before the first time Sam had mentioned Bobby’s books, but he just hadn’t thought of it.

When he was done he made sure the doors to their rooms and the office were shut and then looked briefly into the kitchen. Bobby was busy making the tea and Sam was still eating his soup. Figuring his presence wouldn’t be missed, Dean made his escape outside then. It was still light enough he could get some work done on his restorations, and he’d know when Sam’s mom came and left. 

* * *

Sam only got about half the soup down before he just didn't want any more. Bobby wrapped up his ribs and helped him get his shirt back on. By that time, they heard the sound of a car engine out front.

Bobby stepped out front and saw a blue SUV, with a petite Japanese woman getting out. "Konnichiwa Colt-san," Bobby said, greeting her in Japanese.

"Konbanwa Singer-san," she replied with a smile. "You speak Japanese?"

"Hai," Bobby acknowledged. "A beautiful language, Mrs. Colt. Welcome. Please come in. Sam's inside. He is…pretty beat up."

"Do you have any idea what this is about? I know that he and Eric had a falling out of some sort, something to do with girls he said."

Bobby shook his head. "'Fraid I don't. I can tell you Dean had it rough there at first. You can see, we ain't 'xactly Chalmers material financially. He had his run in with an Eric. Eric Lancaster. Next day a couple of them tried to jump Dean. He's, well, he's a good fighter. If the principal didn't owe me and owe me big, I think things would have gotten a bit ugly. I think maybe your boy might be running into something of the same, that he's not rich enough for those snot nosed brats."

Keiko sighed. "Yes, I suspect that's true. It all seemed to be going well when Eric, the same Eric that bothered your son, befriended Sam the first day. He has been doing so well at that school, and Eric treated him so well. I honestly don't understand what happened. Eric seems like a nice young man though," she paused and said softly, "he's got a bit of the too smooth talk and a look in his eyes that makes me just want to use him for target practice."

"You shoot?" Bobby asked, surprised as he ushered her inside.

"Bow. Made it to the Olympics once, came in sixth in the individual so I can't complain. The team didn't make the semifinals."

"Any time you want to come out and shoot, be my guest. Love to get some pointers."

Keiko saw her son and inhaled sharply. She approached him and shook her head. "I will kill those sons of bitches," she muttered.

"Dean trashed Eric's car already," Sam said.

"Maybe next time a little drain cleaner in a ping pong ball…" she suggested.

Bobby had to bite his tongue. He liked the way this woman thought.

"You're not going back to that school, I don't care what your father says."

"Mrs. Colt can I get you some tea?" He gave her a look suggesting he would like to speak with her.

After a moment of hesitation she gave a nod. She squeezed Sam's arm. "You just sit here and rest while I speak with Mr. Singer for a few minutes."

Sam gave a small nod.

"It's Bobby, ma'am," he said as he led her into the kitchen and poured her a cup of green tea and one for himself.

"Keiko."

"I'm afraid even if you put Sam in a different school, that Lancaster boy will still go after your son. Until what ever is up his crawl is satisfied, I don't know that your boy will be safe any where. Dean, he's offered to try and look after Sam. I'm going to call the principal and see about getting Dean out of his classes a few minutes early so he can escort Sam to and from his classes. I can't promise Dean can keep him safe, but I think he would be safer under Dean's gaze than in some public school. He can come here after school and Dean and I can teach him to fight. In a few months, I imagine Sam will be able to stand on his own."

"I'll need to speak with my husband about this," Keiko said and sipped her tea. "It sounds sensible if you are sure you don't mind."

Bobby shook his head. "Don't mind at all. Think it'll be good for Dean."

"You said you were his guardian."

Bobby nodded. "Found the boy half froze out in one of the junk cars a few years ago. Runaway. Orphan. Took awhile to get him to trust me. Obviously he'd been abused. I ended up," he shrugged, "I took the boy in. I got no family, my wife died several years ago. He needed someone to look after him. He took to working on cars like a fish to water. Don't get me wrong, he's been a handful at times, sometimes still is." Bobby smiled fondly, "but it's been worth it. He's a good kid. Just needed some help finding his way. He's still not real trusting and honestly, Keiko, he seems to have a protective streak in him about your boy. He don't take to people real well and your boy is the first I've seen him…look after like this. I think it would be as good for Dean to have Sammy here as it would be for Sam to have a safe place to stay."

She nodded. "All right. I'm willing to try it if my husband and Sam agree. Now I'd like to see Dean, to thank him."

"I'll call him in."

"No, I want to see him where he's most comfortable."

"He's out back prolly working on one of his cars. I'll take you."

She nodded and let him lead the way.

* * *

When Dean heard Rumsfeld bark he looked up from where he’d been bent underneath the hood of one of his restorations. Seeing the SUV coming up their driveway he whistled for the dog so that the animal wouldn’t jump all over Sam’s mom and possibly end up knocking the petite woman over. He shook his head a little as the dog ran up to slobber all over him instead. Really, that knuckle head was too damned friendly to be a junk yard dog.

As Dean ducked into the storage shed for his tools, making sure that Sam’s mom wouldn’t notice him, he couldn’t help but marvel again how little the younger boy looked like her. Not one damned bit. Not that Dean really looked much like either of his parents… at least from what he could tell from the two black and white yearbook photographs he’d managed to find of them.

He wished he could remember them better. What they’d looked like. The sound of their voices. Sometimes, when he dreamed at night, he thought he could see them so clearly. Him and his dad throwing the football to each other in the back yard, giving little Sammy a kiss goodnight and listening to their mom sing his baby brother to sleep… But then the dream changed, always changed, and all he could see was fire, all he could smell was black smoke, all he could hear was his mother’s and father’s screams, and his baby brother crying…

Dean forced the memories away as he slid underneath the car. It didn’t really matter. Yeah, it was kind of weird that Sam didn’t look the least bit Japanese, but so what? Neither did the other boy look much like his father. Maybe he looked more like a grandparent or something. It happened, he supposed.

He heard the crunch of gravel and turned his head enough to see two sets of feet approaching. One Bobby’s and one obviously Sam’s mom, and Dean sighed. What now? He pretended not to notice them and kept working underneath the car. 

* * *

Bobby didn't see Dean but knew the boy was good at hiding when he wanted to. He did fine on hunts and customers, but just everyday people, he avoided them. He didn't like to get close to people. Bobby and Rumsfeld were his best friends. Sadly, Bobby knew they were his only friends. Dean was even leery of some of the other hunters Bobby had introduced him to. He was slowly warming up to them as he grew more confident in his hunting skills at least.

Looking around he spotted Dean's feet sticking out from underneath one of the cars he was working on.

"Might I speak to him alone?" she asked quietly.

"Once I get him out from under there," Bobby said with a nod but wondered what she wanted with Dean. Well, whatever she wanted, Dean could certainly handle his own.

Approaching the car he waited a moment. When it was obvious Dean wasn't coming out he kicked his foot. "That's rude, Boy. Taught you better manners than that," he told him. He knew very well they were being ignored. If they weren't being ignored then the boy needed thrashed for not knowing they were there. He was a better hunter than that.

"Mrs. Colt wants to speak to you. I'll be inside." He left unsaid that he would be watching, but Dean would know. Bobby would always have his back be it a zombie, vampire, or pissed off mother.

Keiko watched Dean come out from underneath the car. "Nice Camaro," she said, lightly running her fingers along the fender. I see you've put a Hemi carb on it. It'll be fast when you get done with it. Dual tailpipes and it'll have a good sound to it, let everyone know it's coming and kicks ass." She smiled a little at his surprise. "I've always liked cars. The Mustang my husband used to drive caught my attention long before he did. He just doesn't know I like cars or that I know my way around an engine. Not well enough to rebuild a car. Well maybe an older, simpler car I could manage. If he found out he would have me working on his Mustang and," she shook her head, "that isn't what I want to be doing with my free time.

"I'd like to know what Sam won't tell me. You go to that school so I suspect you know. What happened between Sam and Eric? Why did Eric turn from his friend into his nemesis? I know that boy could stop the attacks if he wanted to. That suggests he's encouraging them and I want to know why. And don't try to spare me the realities of the world. I'm not innocent." She watched him with cool expectant eyes.

* * *

Dean grumbled under his breath at the kick to his foot and Bobby’s stern tone. He’d rather hoped that once they saw he was ‘busy’ they would just leave him alone. Well, so much for that hope. What the hell did Bobby want from him? He really wasn’t in the mood for ‘chit-chat’ and he definitely wasn’t in the mood to get his ass reamed by Mrs. Colt for letting her son get the crap beaten out of him. But he knew if he didn’t come out now then Bobby was going to seriously kick his ass.

“Fine.” He muttered. Crawling out from under the car as the older man left. But just because the older man was forcing him to come out to ‘talk’ to Sam’s mom, didn’t mean he was going to stop working in the mean time.

Grabbing his tools he went back to work underneath the hood, and though he was surprised by her knowledge of cars he didn’t comment. He merely shrugged and turned his attention to the Camaro’s engine.

Her question about Sam, what Eric wanted with him… he supposed he wasn’t all that surprised by it. It was obvious she cared about her son. If what Sam said was true, she was the one who’d given the younger boy permission to throw the first punch if he had to, so she was also practical. He had no doubt that she wasn’t ‘innocent’ and could handle the truth about what was going on. The sticky part was, Sam obviously didn’t want his parents to know, or he would have told them himself.

He felt… like he would almost be betraying Sam somehow if he told her the truth, and that didn’t sit too well with Dean at all.

“I’m not the one you should be asking. It’s Sam’s decision whether or not to tell you, not mine.” Dean finally said, turning to meet her gaze evenly. 

* * *

She wasn't happy about his answer but respected it. It showed he had honor and while she truly wanted to know and understand what was going on, it pleased her that Sam had allied himself with a young man like this.

"Bobby said that he would speak to the principal and see if he could arrange for you to escort Sam to his classes. He said you're willing to look after Sam and to try to keep him safe. After last night and the tension I saw between you and Eric, I would hazard a guess that there was no study session this morning, that you were already trying to look after my son. Thank you for that. With the principal's help, I have faith that you will be able to watch over him. I also am quite certain the attacks will escalate and I will be very surprised if Sam doesn't take a few more beatings over this, regardless of your presence. They seem quite determined and sometimes numbers trump skills. But don't underestimate what my Sam is capable of. He may not be skilled in street fighting, but with someone at his back, I think everyone may be surprised at how devious he can be if he chooses to be.

"He's learning some hard lessons at the moment, Dean. He's got a gentle soul and I wish he could stay innocent of the things in this world that are not so gentle. It is obvious that this school will force him to lose such innocence." She frowned a little. "After the way he started his life, I had hoped he had his share of terrible things already."

She looked Dean over and gave a nod. "Bobby said you and he would teach Sam to fight. I appreciate that at well. Be patient with Sam if he has difficulty at first. He does not have the mindset yet that he will need. You have helped him and he will be reluctant to strike back at you." A slightly evil smile curved her lips. "Don't be afraid to give him a black eye if that's what it takes to piss him off enough to fight. I would rather he receive a black eye from you than to see him in a hospital thanks to them. Teach him what he needs to learn to survive.

"I have yet to speak to my husband about this but I believe he will see things my way. I will be keeping Sam home the rest of the week. He'll return to school on Monday. I'll wait until you've arrived to pick him up before leaving myself. If you change your mind and do not wish to be involved, please, let me know at the barbque on Sunday." She gave Dean a slight bow. "See you then."

As she headed back to the house to tell Bobby she expected them both at the barbque she called over her shoulder, "And yes, now you know where he gets his proclivity for talking."

* * *

Dean had half expected Sam’s mother to insist, maybe even demand he tell her what was going on. Well, she could demand all the hell she wanted, but it wouldn’t change his mind about telling her. It was really none of his business anyway whether or not Sam told his parents what was really going on. It made absolutely no difference to him. Yeah, maybe it would make his ‘job’ easier, then again, maybe it wouldn’t. But Sam didn’t want them to know, so they wouldn’t be hearing it from him.

If there was one thing that Dean knew, it was secrets. He certainly had plenty of his own he’d never shared with anyone, not even Bobby.

Mrs. Colt didn’t insist though. Didn’t even really bat an eye at his refusal, and while he was a little surprised at that he only mentally shrugged and turned his attention back to his work. He wasn’t really sure what she was trying to tell him. Or why the hell she was ‘thanking’ him for trying to look after Sam when he’d failed so spectacularly today.

Yeah, she was probably right. The attacks would only escalate… if Dean didn’t put a stop to it right the fuck away. He was still planning on taking a piece out of those little fuckers he’d seen today. Even if he had to break into the office and get their addresses and kick the shit out of them at their homes… that actually wasn’t such a bad idea.

While Dean wondered what the fuck she meant about how Sam ‘started’ life, he really wished she would just stop talking and leave him alone now. If she didn’t want to lay into him, then what the hell else was there to say? Yeah, fine, Sam was learning some hard lessons. Well no shit. Yes, he’d promised to teach Sam a few things, and he’d had absolutely no intention of going easy on the younger boy.

Fine, Sam would stay home for the rest of the week. Good. It would give Dean time to take care of some things without having to constantly keep an eye on Sam too.

Dean scowled deeply however when she mentioned the barbeque. He wasn’t going to any fucking barbeque. He turned to tell her just that, but she was already walking away and since Dean really didn’t feel like extending the conversation he simply let her go. That didn’t stop Dean from muttering under his breath and twisting the wrench in his hand a little harder than he needed to tighten up some bolts. Yeah, he had already guessed where Sam had gotten the ‘habit’. At least Sam he could tell to shut the fuck up and the younger boy would. 


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby put it to him simply. If he wanted to go on the hunt with Bobby next Friday to take down the werewolf, then Dean would go to the barbque at the Colts and play nice. No sulking. No bitching.  


  
Sam met them at the door, surprise showing on his healing face. He really hadn't expected them to come but was glad they had. He took the strawberry shortcake Bobby brought and led them out back. He grinned at the two.

"Mom said you were interested in archery, Bobby, so she went all out."

The backyard was long a deep with a ten foot privacy fence along the back. Beyond the fence was a defunct golf course. People used it for jogging and walking their dogs, but the path was well away from the yard. Targets were set up along the fence. A target hung from a tree by a rope and swung gently in the breeze and there were a few other targets set up on spinning or tilting boards.

"Dad, this is Mr. Singer. Bobby."

The father smiled and shook Bobby's hand. "Jim Colt. Glad you two could come. Knowing my wife, I don't imagine she gave you much choice," he said with a laugh. "During the summer, we try to make it a habit to have a cook out every couple weekends. Sometimes I invite friends from work, or Keiko does, and sometimes it's just us. We occasionally throw parties, but we like the small get togethers. Gives people a chance to really talk without distractions of a bunch of other people. I keep trying to convince Keiko a small pool would be a good idea but," he shrugged, "heaven forbid anything interferes with her and her archery." He waved his hand toward a cooler. "Beer and soda in there, help yourself. If you're hungry now, we've got chips and nachos and such over on the picnic table. There's a pool table downstairs if it gets too hot out here and Sam said Dean might like to see my old Mustang. Oh, and be forewarned, my wife is a photographer. She will be taking pictures."

"Dad, can I have a beer?" Sam asked hopefully.

"You can have up to three. Now or later. You choose," Jim told him.

Sam grabbed a beer and offered one each to Bobby and Dean.

Seeing the newcomers eyeing the targets set up, Jim laughed. "Don't feel the need to keep me company. Go on. Keiko was quite excited by the opportunity to have someone new to shoot with. Sam's pretty good. I, however, absolutely suck at it."

Keiko saw them and hurried over. "You made it. I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of assuming you might like a little target practice," she told Bobby. She had several bows laid out and ready. "Does Mr. Talkative like to shoot too?" she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked at Dean.

* * *

Dean wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy since Bobby decided to manipulate him into going to the Colt’s god damned barbeque by refusing to take him on the hunt he’d promised unless he did. He’d actually told the older hunter to fuck off when Bobby had first told him. The shouting match that had erupted afterwards had been impressive, even for them, and ended when Dean had finally stormed out of the house and drove off.

He didn’t go home that night.

The next day, Dean didn’t go to school. Well, he’d gone. Just long enough to break into the records office like he’d planned, but he didn’t attend any of his classes. Yeah, Bobby was going to have a cow, but he didn’t give a fuck right now. He’d driven by Sam’s house a couple of times during the day, just to make sure that the younger boy was all right. To make sure that Eric, or someone else, didn’t show up unexpectedly at the younger boy’s house.

It was with no small amount of smug satisfaction that Dean noticed that Eric’s car wasn’t in the school parking lot when he’d finally drove back to the school at the end of the day. He’d watched, at a discrete distance, the other students leaving the school on buses, being picked up, or taking their own cars home. He saw the group of boys who’d beaten up Sam leaving. They looked a little nervous. Well, they should be.

Dean didn’t follow them. He didn’t need to, he knew where they lived. That afternoon, one by one, he’d taken care of them. He made sure they were alone, no witnesses. He didn’t even beat the shit out of them, like he really wanted to. But he’d certainly made them piss their pants. One boy literally when he held his pocket knife to the little bastard’s dick, promising he’d cut all their balls off and shove them down their throats if they so much looked at Sam the wrong way again.

Of course Bobby had given him hell that night when he’d finally gone home, and Dean hardly spoke to the older man for the rest of the week. Yeah, he was here, at the fucking barbeque. But he was he wasn’t going to pretend he was happy just because Bobby had ordered him to stop ‘sulking’ on the way here.

Dean noted Sam seemed to be healing up well at least when the younger boy answered the door, but he didn’t reply to the cheerful greeting. Following along mutely behind as they were led out into the back yard. He eyed the cheerful looking back yard but kept his distaste to himself. It was all so fucking happy suburban family it made him sick.

He took the beer that Sam offered him, but he didn’t drink it. The brief flicker of annoyance that crossed his face at the mention of pictures his first reaction since they’d arrived, and it was quickly schooled away. When Sam’s mother finally came up to them and addressed him directly, asking him if he liked to shoot, Dean merely averted his eyes and shook his head in denial. Normally he did enjoy practicing with a bow actually. Bullets didn’t work on everything after all, and it was kind of fun and different. He just wanted to find a place where he could sit and hopefully they would forget about him until it was time to leave. 

* * *

Bobby wanted to simply throttle the boy. It wasn't too god-damned much to ask for Dean to try to be social for once. They hadn't had a fight like this in years. He was also worried, frankly. The kid was nineteen. He didn't have to stay at Bobby's anymore. He might think he knew enough about hunting to make it on his own and to go his own way. When Dean didn't come home that first night, Bobby almost caved when Dean got back. He'd always wanted to offer the boy some bit of normalcy in his life. Family picnics were normal and how often did Bobby get invited to one? Lessee, since his wife died…exactly one. This one.

He wanted to go. He wanted to learn more about the family whose son Dean had taken an interest in. He wanted to see what sort of people they were. He couldn't deny he wanted to learn more about the petite Japanese woman who was rather unlike most women he had met. There was no denying that if she weren't married he would have asked her out, even if he had a few years on her. She was married, he would never flirt with her of course, but a bit of a friendship would be nice. Friendship with some regular, non hunter related folk. He hadn't had that in years. Dean had never had that, though Bobby had tried to encourage him to make friends. Dean had just been hurt so many times that at times, Bobby feared Dean wouldn't ever being anything but a solitary friendless hunter. What if something happened to Bobby? Dean had no one and he wouldn't reach out to anyone. Sam he connected with for whatever reason. Bobby was trying to support that, trying to get Dean to understand Sam had a family that might just welcome him as a friend. He had told him no sulking. Fine. If Dean wanted to have a miserable time at the picnic, that was up to him. The chance to get shooting tips from a world champion archer wasn't something Bobby was about to pass up.

Sam saw the look in Dean's eyes when they arrived. Dean didn't want to be here. He had been excited to hear Bobby and Dean were coming, but he didn't really believe it until he actually saw them at the door. He watched his mom speak to Dean and Dean made it apparent he wanted nothing to do with any of it. Didn't even touch the beer.

His mom told him Dean was going to watch over him, escort him from class to class. He didn't tell his mother he and Dean had already made that arrangement, that Dean was doing it because he was…sponsoring…him. He wasn't about to tell his mother that. She had asked him a few times what happened with regards to Eric and he told her the same thing he had told her before. Girls. It had to do with girls. He told his father the same thing. His father was quite shocked when he came home to discover Sam beaten up and told Eric's friends had done it. He wasn't happy when Sam told him it couldn't be fixed between him and Eric, but finally seemed to accept it. Hearing that Dean was going to protect him didn't make him happy, but only because he hated the thought that Sam needed protection.

Sam hadn't gotten the scrapbook done yet because when he told his mom he was going to try to make Dean the portfolio she had offered to make for him she wanted to take the pictures of the restored cars herself. They drove all over town the area Friday and Saturday and still had some places to go that weren't near by. She was letting Sam make it, but offered him suggestions here and there to improve the composition of the portfolio. It was looking really cool and Sam was so proud of it. But Dean didn't seem to be in the mood to accept anything from any of them and so he didn't really want to show Dean what he was doing, afraid Dean would blow a gasket or tell him it was crap, that he didn't want it. Sam decided he would just leave it at Bobby's when he got done with it. He wouldn't tell Dean anything. He didn't want to see that Dean hated it. It would hurt too much. He was pouring his heart and soul into it and he didn't want that crushed. He could leave it for Dean and Dean could burn it or trash or whatever. Sam didn't want to know. He was going to finish it and then just be content that he had given Dean the present.

He sat with Dean silently, slowly nursing his beer, watching his mom and Bobby shoot. Bobby was pretty good and it was apparent he knew how to shoot. His mom helped Bobby with his stance, helped him with his technique, and then they really started having fun when they were doing shots on the run. She was absolutely excellent, as always, and made Sam proud. She was dead on with every single shot. Bobby did surprising well, even with the moving targets and shots on the run. He spilled a few curses now and again when he missed a difficult shot and his mom laughed and helped him until he got it right, hell, got it perfect. It was obvious she loved having such an adept student. Bobby seemed to be having the time of his life, the way he was grinning and laughing.

"Keiko, you're running Bobby to death! The chicken's done. Put your toys away and let's eat!" Jim called out, piling the chicken onto a plate.

* * *

Dean had half expected Bobby to force him to participate in their little shooting match, just like the older man had forced him to come here. But after simply giving Dean a dirty displeased look Bobby simply ignored him, the older man following Sam’s mom out to the little range that was set up and leaving him alone. Dean had a feeling he wasn’t going to be so lucky once they got home though. He’d be surprised if they didn’t immediately get into another shouting match as soon as they were alone in the car together, in fact.

Whatever.

If Bobby wanted to be pissed off at him, fine. It was Bobby’s fault for forcing him to come here. Dean didn’t want to be ‘social’. He wasn’t going to be their performing monkey either. He just wanted to be left alone.

Dean found a place to sit underneath a tree practically on the other side of the yard where he wouldn’t be in the way, and hopefully, he’d be left alone. He watched Bobby and Sam’s mom for a while before leaning his head back against the tree and looking up at the sky through the leaves.

He was glad that Bobby seemed to be having fun, at least. He really was. But despite the ‘peacefulness’ of the lazy suburban Sunday afternoon, Dean couldn’t relax. He’d always hated places like this. Houses with white picket fences, happy fucking families living the happy fucking American apple pie life…

He’d once had a happy fucking family too, he’d had a dad and a mom and a baby brother and a home… until it had all gone up in smoke, quite literally. It was a reminder of everything he’d lost. Everything he’d never had, and he hated it. Sure, the Colts seemed like a nice enough couple… so had some of the people he’d been fostered by. Until they got tired of him and passed him off to someone else, unable to handle his ‘rebelliousness’, that was the reason most of them gave, he was sure. He wondered how many of them simply couldn’t stand him waking them up screaming every night from the nightmares of his family burning alive…

Dean’s eyes snapped to the side when he heard a sound beside him and frowned a little when Sam settled down next to him. What the hell did he want? Dean waited for Sam to say something, but when the younger boy didn’t, Dean simply mentally shrugged. Leaning his head back again and all but ignoring Sam, figuring the younger boy would get bored soon enough or say whatever he wanted and leave. But Sam didn’t, he simply sat there, quietly, beside him. Something of a miracle in of itself with Sam’s blabber mouth.

When Sam’s father finally called them all to eat, Dean debated whether or not to just remain sitting here, but he’d probably pushed Bobby’s buttons about as far as he could. Anymore ‘rude’ behavior, and they were going to get into a shouting match right here, and while Dean might not care much about what Mr. and Mrs. Colt thought of him… besides, he was kind of hungry.

With a sigh Dean pushed himself to his feet, then looked down at Sam. The younger boy probably wasn’t healed up enough that he could get up on his own without discomfort, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Dean held out his hand to Sam to help him up.

* * *

Sam was surprised when Dean offered his hand, but took it gladly, using Dean as a brace to pull himself up. For the most part his knee was doing fine so his limp was gone, but it still hurt if he put to much stress on it and some of the bruises to his abdomen, they were deep and still tender.

As they headed to the picnic table Sam offered, "We can go play pool or shoot some darts in the basement after we eat if you want. Or…Mom or Dad would probably take Bobby home if you don't want to stay. I'm sorry he made you come when you didn't want to," Sam said. It was pretty obvious this was the last place Dean wanted to be right now. Sam didn't really understand why Dean didn't want to be there with them, then reminded himself what Dean had said Wednesday, before Sam had been beaten up. No more babbling. Stay out of his way and don't annoy him. The senior wasn't his friend, it was just…a business arrangement. When Sam healed up from being beat to hell, Dean got to make him his bitch and Sam would hopefully get through the days without getting the crap beaten out of him.

He wasn't Sam's friend.

Of course he didn't want to be here. He didn't want Sam's parents to know or even get an inkling of the arrangement they had. Yeah, Sam didn't really want them to know either. Next time he would tell Bobby that Dean didn't have to come if he didn't want to. Not to make him come. He looked pretty much beyond miserable. Hopefully the food would cheer Dean up some.

Sam settled at the table and began filling his plate with the chicken, potato salad, baked beans and coleslaw. His dad's chicken was always awesome and his mom made wicked baked beans. The potato salad everyone raved about, but he had never been a big potato salad fan. He took only a little, and that simply out of respect for his mom. He watched as Bobby loaded up his plate and began talking enthusiastically with his parents. At least Bobby was enjoying himself. Sam stayed quiet even after his mother passed him a strange look. Sam was never this quiet. Sam gave her a small smile, trying to reassure her everything was okay.

He really wished Dean was his friend. Maybe then he wouldn't hate hanging out with Sam and his family. 

* * *

Sam’s offer to go to his basement to shoot pool or play darts made Dean frown in confusion. He wasn’t sure why the younger boy seemed to feel the need to keep him company or entertain him. Dean certainly wasn’t expecting Sam to and he didn’t think he’d given any indication he wanted Sam to. When the younger boy offered to ask one of his parents to bring Bobby home so that Dean could leave... yeah right, like that was going to happen. He could only imagine how Bobby might blow up at that suggestion. It wouldn’t be pretty, that much was certain. Dean shook his head, hoping that Sam wouldn’t bring it up.

Not that Dean thought Bobby was going to actually kick the shit out of him, or anything, despite how the older man sometimes threatened to when Dean had really pissed him off. Though no matter how much he’d ever pissed off Bobby, the older man had never laid a hand on him like that. Yeah, they’d fought. When Dean had first come to live with Bobby they’d shouted at each other sometimes till they were blue in the face. Usually when Bobby wanted him to do something that Dean didn’t want to do. But Bobby had never hit him. The older man might have cuffed him on the back of the head a few times when he thought Dean was being an idiot, and had given him a bruise or two when they were sparring for practice, but that certainly wasn’t the same. Bobby had never struck him in anger, and he knew Bobby never would.

Dean just didn’t like fighting with the older man. Plain and simple. Seeing the disappointment in Bobby’s eyes whenever the older man was upset with him was worse than any beating.

Yeah, he hadn’t wanted to come and he definitely didn’t want to stay. But he would. Maybe some pool wouldn’t be too bad... if only to pass the time.

He took a seat on the end of the picnic bench beside Sam, grabbing the plastic plate that had been set in front of him and loading some food onto it. He even finally opened up the beer that Sam had handed him earlier to wash everything down. The food was pretty good, he had to admit that, and at least shoveling food into his face he wouldn’t be expected to join in the conversation. 

* * *

Bobby discreetly watched the boys as he chatted with the Colts. Keiko told him she also did the cross bow, but said she would only do that on a proper archery range, just as she'd only shoot a compound bow on the range. They were just too powerful in the suburban setting and the time the crossbow bolt had gone through one of her targets and into the area beyond was the last time she shot it in her back yard. Though even her regular bows had enough of a poundage on the pull that they could be dangerous, they didn't have the power the others did. Bobby was surprised to learn that she throw knives too. He was really surprised that she didn't shoot a gun though. She didn't like them she said. Made too much noise. Bobby laughed when she said she refused to go bowhunting. Said it wasn't fair to the deer that they didn't have a chance against her, and he believed it.

Jim had an interest in old cars, so Bobby and he began talking up the merits of various classic cars and Bobby told him of some of the cars that had passed through his salvage yard and some of the cars Dean had rebuilt over the past couple years. Dean made it a point to be too busy eating to join in the conversation which frustrated Bobby. They were talking things that the boy ought to be eating up. Weapons and old cars. The two things Dean was most interested in. But Dean continued to be anti-social and Bobby just didn't get it. Dean was inexplicably protective of the son, but wanted nothing to do with the parents.

Bobby supposed he couldn't really blame the boy. Trust was not his strong suit. Sam seemed to be just as quiet and he could tell, based on his parents covert glances that it wasn't normal for the boy and he had no doubt it was because of Dean. He didn't really get the why of that either but what could he do? He watched as the parents tried to bring Sam into the conversation and Dean as well, but both boys were stoic. He suspected if Dean weren't with them Sam would be much more animated. That bothered him. What had Dean said to the younger boy to make him so quiet? He could also see a sadness in Sam. Well, who could blame the kid, having to face going back to that school the next day?

He had talked with the principal and Dean would be permitted to leave his classes five minutes early and arrive five minutes late in order to see Sam was protected. The principal didn't want a repeat of what had happened to Sam. Reluctantly the principal had told Bobby about the situation of 'sponsoring' younger boys and thought that that was probably what had happened between Lancaster and Colt. And Lancaster didn't like not getting what he wanted. With the history between Dean and Eric he warned Bobby it would probably get nasty and that if it did, Bobby needed to immediately alert him so he could try to keep it from escalating. Though Bobby could tell the principal had taken some satisfaction over the news Eric's car had all but been beaten into a pile of expensive scrap.

Bobby couldn't help but wonder if Dean was sponsoring Sam and wasn't sure if he should bring it up. He hadn't seen Dean watching the boy, not that way, but it didn't mean Dean wasn't interested. As with anything else, Dean kept everything hidden from the world. Still, he would ask. He wasn't quite certain how he felt about that. Maybe he should ask Sam. Still, how did you ask a sixteen year old boy if he was having sex with his foster son. Awkward. Definitely awkward. What would he say if the answer was yes? If it was consensual…but was it? Dean would never force himself on anyone, Bobby knew that without any doubt, so what did it really matter? If the boys found comfort in each other, then, well, maybe it wasn't a bad thing. He wondered if Dean would be surprised by Bobby's attitude. Bobby had stayed out of Dean's sex life. Just told him to be careful, that one Dean was enough to handle right now and that he didn't want to see any little Dean's running around, at least not until the boy was out of school. If Sam and Dean were a couple, at least he didn't have to worry about that. Based upon what Keiko told him, he suspected they had no idea Dean and Sam might have more of a relationship that just Dean protecting him. Maybe he was jumping the gun. Hell, as far as he could tell, Dean and Sam had just met this past week. All he could do was watch.

As soon as the boys were done eating, Sam announced they were going downstairs to play pool. Bobby hoped that's all the boys were planning on doing. He watched as Sam and Dean headed into the house.

"You son's quiet," Jim observed.

"He don't socialize well. He had a pretty rough life until he came to me. He's an orphan, passed around from family to family until he finally ran away and ended up hiding out in my junk yard. He needed someone to trust. Unfortunately that boy hasn't learned to trust anyone else and I'm at my wits end. I was hoping he might enjoy himself, doing something normal like a picnic."

"He might find it too much of what he's never had," Keiko suggested. "Maybe something he's always wanted but couldn't have and now he doesn't know how to deal with it, so he's just shut down. Sam's sensitive to things like that. That's probably why Sam's being so quiet, trying to give Dean something to hold on to, something that isn't forcing Dean to be part of something he's afraid to be part of," Keiko suggested. "Just give him some time. Sam had a rough time when we first adopted him, even though he was just a baby. He had a lot of nightmares a baby shouldn't have. He still has night terrors sometimes. Wakes up screaming but has no memory of what the dream was about. All he can remember are…essences. Heat. Blood. Orange. Black. Screams. Tears. Takes him a while to calm down, and he usually stays awake the rest of the night. I've been surprised with everything going on that he hasn't had any. So want to shoot some more before we settle down for dessert?"

"You got him before dinner," Jim said. "My turn. If you want to look at my old Mustang and talk cars."

Bobby chuckled. "Let's do cars. Then after dessert maybe some more bow."

"He's just doing that because it'll make me do the clean up you know," Keiko accused.

You could always call the boys backup to do it," Bobby said.

Keiko gave a small smile and shake of her head. "No, I think Dean needs some time out of the picnic and parent zone."

* * *

Dean had polished off two good sized helpings of the meal by the time Sam announced that he was done and they were going inside. Dean certainly was not about to protest. He was more than ready to get away from the table and the covert glances that Sam’s parents and Bobby kept throwing their way. Even though the food _had_ been good, he had to give them that.

He followed Sam into the house, snagging two more beers from the cooler as they passed. He felt himself beginning to relax almost as soon as they reached the cool basement. Dean didn’t even realize just how tense he was until his muscles started unknotting themselves.

With a small sigh, Dean leaned up against the edge of the pool table and held out one of the beers he’d snagged for Sam. He supposed it was sort of a peace offering.

Dean wondered if Sam was angry at him for not wanting to talk to his parents. Sam didn’t seem angry, at least. But it was hard to be sure. Sam hadn’t said much… well, that was his fault too, he supposed. Dean felt a little bad about that, now. Sam could babble on forever… but Dean honestly wasn’t sure if he preferred the silence to that now though.

Dean looked Sam up and down. He really was glad that the younger boy seemed to be doing so much better. He had been… worried… the last time he had seen Sam.

“How are your ribs doing?” Dean finally asked, taking a long pull of his own beer. A great conversation starter, he was not. At least, not like this. He could hustle, lie, cheat, and flirt with the best of them. Those skills had certainly helped him survive on his own, and even helped him on a hunt. But just talking? Yeah, not his thing. 

* * *

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was up for pool or not, but since they had played it the other night, he figured it was a safe bet. He was glad Dean followed him instead of just staying at the table or going back to the tree so he didn't look like an idiot. When they got downstairs Sam glanced over at the stereo. He'd put some more of his father's rock tunes in for Dean. When he looked back he saw Dean was holding out a beer for him. He accepted it with a nod of thanks and opened it. Dean looked a bit thoughtful, then Sam saw him look him over, head to toe. He wondered if Dean liked what he saw. He supposed Dean did or he wouldn't be sponsoring him. The swelling in his face had gone down considerably and the bruises that lingered weren't very sore at this point. When Dean asked about his ribs, Sam shrugged, wondering if Dean was trying to figure out if Sam was up to making out.

"Still sore, but they're okay so long as nothing hits them too hard."

Was he supposed to make the first move? Eric had been the one to make the move on him and that was weeks into it, when he had apparently decided he had 'courted' Sam long enough. Still Eric knew Sam didn't have a clue. Dean knew he did. Maybe he would want a down payment, make sure Sam was going to pony up and not bail on him like he had bailed on Eric.

Sam walked over to the stereo and started up the music. "There's the dart board," Sam said waving to it on the far wall, "or we can play pool…or whatever you, you know, might want." He walked back to the pool table. "We've probably got about an hour before mom calls us to tell us it's time for dessert." Sam took a drink from his beer. It wouldn't be that bad, he told himself. Unlike Eric, Randall said Dean had never sponsored anyone before. Randall also said Dean was dangerous. After seeing what Dean had done to Eric's car, he could certainly understand where those rumors came from, coupled with the fact he had put the beat down on Eric and put two of Eric's cohorts in the hospital. He studied Dean and couldn't help but look at his lips. Those lips would end up kissing him at some point, maybe tonight. That was a weird thought. At least they weren't in a car and at least Sam knew it was going to happen. He wasn't being blind-sided by it this time. Maybe it was better that Dean wasn't his friend. He wouldn't feel betrayed like he had with Eric. Of course by the same token that meant Sam was whoring himself out in payment for Dean's protection. It was kind of ironic actually. Because Eric made the move on him, he ended up meeting Dean. Because Eric's boys were going to jump him on the way to the bus stop, Dean stopped and 'rescued' him. Because Eric was at the house, Dean had followed him in and Sam had declared he and Dean were together. Because of Eric's goon's beating him up in the bathroom, he had learned what sponsoring was and asked Dean to sponsor him, even if he was being sarcastic. But he had been the one to call Dean and asked Bobby to ask Dean to pick him up. He realized in retrospect when Dean asked him if Sam wanted him to walk with him between classes, that Dean was offering to sponsor him. Naïve Sam, he had gushed about how awesome that would be.

Sam waited and watched Dean, taking a long drink of liquid courage.

* * *

Dean nodded at the younger boy’s reply, watching Sam intently as he moved around the room and a small smile played on his lips when the other boy turned on the stereo. Somehow he had the feeling the music selection Sam had made was entirely for his benefit. Though Sam had never actually complained about the choice of music whenever he rode in his car, the younger boy didn’t seem all that into his classic rock either. He wasn’t exactly sure how to feel that Sam had made this music choice just for him.

“They won’t bother you again. Made sure of it.” Dean told the younger boy, figuring Sam would be pleased to know that he didn’t have to worry about those boys that had jumped him that afternoon. Dean wasn’t dumb, and he knew Sam wasn’t either. Just because Dean had managed to take care of those little snots, didn’t mean that others wouldn’t keep trying. Especially not without Eric egging them on, but it was a start.

He glanced over at the dart board on the wall that Sam indicated. He wondered if Sam was as good at darts as he was at pool. If he was, that could be an interesting way to spend the time. Though when Sam ended his suggestions of things that they might do with ‘whatever else he might want’ Dean turned his attention back to Sam with a slightly raised eyebrow.

Seeing the way Sam was looking at him… yeah, he looked a little nervous but not necessarily in a bad way. The way the younger boy’s eyes darted down to his lips made another, softer, smile pull at them. Was Dean interested? Hell yes. Especially after the week he’d had, he could definitely go for a little different type of recreational activity. If Sam was up for it…

Watching Sam drink from the beer bottle, watching the way the younger boy’s lips wrapped around the lip and the way his throat moved when he swallowed pretty much made the decision for him. Dean took one last long pull from his own bottle before licking his lips and setting it down on the edge of the pool table.

“Come ‘ere.” He said softly. 

* * *

Sam had a momentary hope that Dean was going to go for darts. He always enjoyed darts. It was really a toss up if he like pool or darts more. When Dean's eyes changed with Sam's offer of whatever, he figured the decision was made. He was suddenly self-conscious of drinking his beer and swallowed hard.

At least he was here, in his house. If he couldn't deal, he could bail. Not like Dean was going to chase him down, not with his parents upstairs. A loud enough yell and his parents could probably hear him, so he felt a little bit more secure in that knowledge that he wasn't at Dean's mercy, not like he'd been with Eric. He had some control here. And if Dean took him up on his 'suggestion,' they would both know if Sam was going to be able to go through with this. Better to know now. Dean had a temper and if Dean had been protecting him and then Sam couldn't do what Dean wanted, and they were at Dean's…no, Sam didn't like the possibilities of that. Yeah, here and now was definitely better. When Dean licked his lips and set the beer aside, the words were hardly out of Dean's mouth before Sam walked toward him and set his own beer on the table. He'd kissed girls before. Maybe he could just shut his eyes and imagine Dean was Stacy or Amanda. He stood in front of Dean and looked up at him. There was a kindness in Dean's eyes that he didn't expect. Those green eyes didn't hold that hard predatory gleam that had been in Eric's. Sam had a feeling if he said 'no' that Dean would not flip out. He was also pretty damned sure in that instant that Dean would never hit him, not like Eric had, not ever, no matter what.

Licking his lips, Sam ran the tips of his fingers slowly over the black concert t-shirt Dean wore. Solid muscle. Inadvertently his fingers ran over Dean's nipple and his breath caught. He looked up at Dean, unsure if that was okay or too bold. Dean didn't seem to mind so Sam brought his touch back to that nipple and rubbed it through the t-shirt, circling around it and pinching it lightly. He kind of liked Dean's response to that and that just seemed fucked up. Maybe it was because it was the first time he felt like he had a little power over the older stronger boy. He did it again, circling with his fingers and this time pinched a little harder. Yeah, he definitely liked the response but standing here playing with Dean's nipple wasn't going to satisfy what Dean wanted from him. He continued to rub Dean's nipple with one hand while this other he looped around Dean's neck and tilted his head back a little as he parted his lips, waiting for Dean to kiss him. He almost giggled. He'd never gotten to play with Amanda or Stacy's nipples.

* * *

Despite the slight nervousness Dean could still see flickering in the younger boy’s eyes Sam didn’t hesitate at all approaching him when Dean beckoned. If the younger boy had hesitated, at all, Dean probably would have reconsidered doing this here and now. They certainly hadn’t… talked… about this and the last thing he wanted was to push Sam into something he didn’t want. If Sam wasn’t ready… but the way the younger boy boldly stood between his legs and ran his fingers up the length of Dean’s chest, Sam certainly seemed ready. So Dean simply chalked up any lingering nervousness he saw on Sam’s part to general first time nerves. Sam had said he was a virgin, after all…

Dean’s breath hitched a little when the younger boy’s fingers brushed across his nipple, sending a small shiver of pleasure through him even through the cotton t-shirt he was wearing. Dean smiled at the younger boy but didn’t do anything else to encourage or dissuade Sam’s touch, letting him explore him however he wanted. Though he didn’t bother to contain his small sounds of pleasure Sam pulled from him, the fingers toying with his nipple making heat pool in his groin and his cock twitch with every rub or gentle pinch.

When Sam finally looped his arm around his neck, leaning into him a little, Dean finally moved. Letting one of his hands come to rest on Sam’s hip, tugging the younger boy flush to his body. His other hand moving up the length of the younger boy’s back, mindful of any bruises remaining he kept his touch light and gentle as he cupped the back of Sam’s neck.

Dean pressed his lips to the younger boy’s so softly at first it was barely a touch at all, their mingling breath more of a caress. Every brush of his mouth against Sam’s he let the pressure increase just a little more until he finally swiped his tongue softly over Sam’s lower lip. Licking between the seam of the younger boy’s lips then tugging gently on Sam’s lower lip with his teeth. Sucking on it softly. 

* * *

When Dean pulled him closer, he didn't resist. He could feel the heat of Dean's body everywhere, feel the pressure of their muscles touching one another. Dean's hand was gentle as it brushed up his back and he could tell Dean was being careful of the bruises that were still sprinkling his back side. His hand went to the back of Sam's neck and Sam braced himself for the firm grip and the crush of their lips. But that didn't happen. Dean's touch remained gentle and Sam felt a little of his tension drain away. He could still pull back if he wanted.

The soft touch of Dean's lips surprised him. As Dean pressed a little harder, Sam found himself kissing Dean back. They were such sweet gentle kisses and not at all what Sam expected from the bad-ass senior. He felt Dean's tongue and expected, almost anticipated, the invasion of his mouth by the other's tongue. Instead Dean surprised him again. He had never expected someone sucking on his lower lip to turn him on, but his cock was certainly beginning to grow harder. This close against Dean he could tell Dean's cock was likewise growing interested. Sam slid his hand that had been playing with Dean's nipple around to Dean's back, slowly rubbing up and down it.

Hearing a soft moan, Sam was startled to realize it had come from him. He ran his hand down Dean's back and slipped it and under Dean's t-shirt. His fingers slid up the muscles. Jesus, the older youth was nothing but muscle everywhere. And that kind of turned him on too. He felt a few scars across Dean's back and traced over them lightly, investigating them as he investigated the rippling muscles, the furrows between them, and then ran his hand slowly down Dean's spine, letting his hand slip under the young man's waistband to the top of his crack, before running his hand back up Dean's spine. Running the tip of his tongue over Dean's lip, it was almost an invitation. He let his hand drift along Dean's ribs, his fingers finding their way back to Dean's nipple, but this time there was no cloth between his fingers and that nub. When he touched Dean's nipples he felt a small little rush of blood go to his groin.

* * *

When Dean felt some of the nervous tension drain out of the younger boy, Dean smiled a little against Sam’s lips. His fingers beginning a gentle massage against the back of Sam’s neck, petting slightly through the younger boy’s soft hair to encourage Sam to relax further against him.

Sam’s lips moving softly against his own, kissing him in return, was all the encouragement that Dean needed to take things a step further. When Sam’s hand slipped around his back, Dean let his other hand move from the younger boy’s hip to his ass to gently pull him even closer. Pressing their chests and groins together. Though he was careful not to hold onto Sam too tightly, the last thing he wanted was to cause the younger boy any discomfort.

He sighed softly against Sam’s mouth when the younger boy began moving his hand along his back. Any remaining tension he’d felt coming here melting away underneath the younger boy’s surprisingly sure fingers as they explored him.

Hearing Sam’s soft moan of pleasure and feeling Sam’s fingers drift beneath the waistband of his jeans he gently squeezed the younger boy’s ass. Sam’s tongue swiping over his lips had him smiling and Dean followed that teasing tongue back into the younger boy’s mouth. Slipping his tongue between the younger boy’s lips, he carefully explored the slick wet heat beyond. Letting his tongue twine and stroke Sam’s in the younger boy’s mouth.

Sam’s touch returning to his nipples, this time without the barrier of fabric between them, had him groaning into the younger boy’s mouth. His hips pushing forward a little, the pressure against his hardening flesh trapped in his jeans a sweet torture. 

* * *

Dean's hand squeezing his ass kind of surprised him, but more so when He was tugged so gently closer still to the senior. If Eric had treated him so gingerly, had approached him and given him a choice, things would probably have turned out very differently. He didn't necessarily feel like he had a choice with Dean, this was payment for protection, but yet, he did feel like he had a choice. He had really almost expected Dean to ravage his mouth like Eric had, to hit him if he resisted, to end up bent over the pool table, Dean's hand gripping his hair as he shoved his way in. If it were Eric whose arms he was in, he knew that was the way it would be going down. He did not expect the care that Dean was treating him with. Like Sam actually meant something to him other than a whore to have sex with. He knew the latter was really the truth, but he wanted to pretend it was the former.

The way Dean's tongue explored his mouth, it was different from Amanda and even Stacy who was frankly pretty damned aggressive. He had almost ended up with his first blow job from her, but her parents came home and put an abrupt stop to that. Dean's tongue in his mouth wasn't so bad. Dean was slow, investigating almost tentatively, as if making sure Sam wasn't going to freak on him.

It was freaky, standing in his basement, his parent just upstairs while he was making out with a guy. It was kind of thrilling, after all how much more bold could he get? When Dean groaned into his mouth and thrust his groin into Sam's, Sam definitely felt a spike of arousal and couldn't help rubbing against Dean as his cock demanded more pressure. He tightened his arm around Dean's neck and intensified the kiss. Damn was he getting hot over this and groaned back into Dean's mouth. His hand went from Dean's nipple to his ass, returning the squeezing.

Dean was an amazing kisser, Sam decided. He didn't have a whole lot of experience to judge it by of course, but he liked it. He blushed a little when he realized he wanted more, though he was probably thinking a whole lot more with his downstairs brain than his upstairs one at this point. He wasn't quite sure what 'more' he wanted though.

If it were Amanda, what would he want? He would want her shirt off. He would want to kiss her chest and latch on to her nipple and play with it with his fingers and his mouth. He had wanted to do that a couple times, but hell, he had wanted to touch her boobs and see her tits never gotten to. He'd never gotten off on seeing a guy's chest but he was getting hard enough his cock being inside his pants was beginning to hurt, feeling all bound up inside. If he was hurting, Dean probably was to. He wondered how big Dean was. Sam wasn't exactly small, he knew that. But Dean felt big underneath his jeans. He really wasn't sure what to do, how far he wanted this to go. Ultimately he knew where it would go one day, but not today, surely. Right?

Okay, so nipples or pants? If he started sucking on Dean's chest—did guys even really like that?—Dean would expect him to work his way lower if he undid both of their jeans. Well, he could get Dean to take off his shirt, work on his nipples and maybe jerk Dean off. The thought of giving Dean a blow job just didn't sound appetizing, though his own dick was complaining and thinking that might be a really good thing.

* * *

Honestly, Dean hadn’t expected this to go much further than a bit of making out and maybe some heavy petting but Sam was surprising him. The younger boy was a pretty good kisser and it was pretty obvious Sam had done at least this much before even if he hadn’t gone all the way. Which was perfectly fine with Dean, since it meant he didn’t have to worry so much about accidentally spooking Sam like some girls did when you <gasp> put your tongue in their mouth.

Dean almost chuckled at that mental image, but he was too busy groaning again in pleasure and maybe a little discomfort when Sam started rubbing against him. The feel of Sam’s hard arousal rubbing against his own, the rough fabric of their jeans chafing a little, was sending even more heat running straight southward. If he hadn’t been uncomfortably hard in his jeans already, he definitely was now at full mast, so to speak.

Sam definitely wasn’t acting like the blushing virgin he’d been expecting. The younger boy seemed quite comfortable touching him, humping against him, squeezing his ass, hell, playing with his nipples. So damned eager… which, again, was perfectly fine with Dean since his dick was telling him it wasn’t going to be satisfied with just some kissing and petting anymore.

After a few more minutes of kissing, letting his hands wander up and down Sam’s body, Dean chuckled softly and reluctantly pulled back to allow them both a much needed breath considering the way they were both panting a little. Though when Dean looked down at the younger boy’s flushed face and kiss swollen lips he felt his breath catch in his throat. God, Sam looked so… beautiful, was the first word that came to his mind but it was so damned cheesy Dean stomped that thought out right way. Hot… that was better… Dean licked his lips, still able to taste Sam on them and had to bite back another groan.

“I can practically hear you thinking.” Dean teased, smiling at Sam as he cupped the younger boy’s cheek and ran his thumb over those reddened lips. Damn, he was going to have to tone it back down a little or everyone upstairs was going to know exactly what they’d been doing down here and somehow Dean didn’t think Sam’s parents were going to take that very well. “Do you want to stop now? Or…”

Dean decided to leave the ‘or’ up to Sam. 

* * *

Sam was still trying to decide how to ask Dean to take off his shirt but Dean kept distracting him. The way Dean's hands ran up and down his back, squeezed his ass, and the kissing. Yeah, there was no doubt, Dean was a really good kisser because every time Sam tried to think about moving his hand to encourage the youth to take his shirt off Dean did something new with his tongue. A part of him kind of forgot it was a guy he was kissing. He wasn't sure how since he felt Dean's very firm erection pressing up against his own, and if it was a girl he was kissing she was as flat-chested as a gymnast. But the kissing was just…okay, he definitely wouldn't mind kissing Dean in the future. Last Sunday if someone told him he'd be kissing a guy and liking it, he would have told them they were nuts and should check themselves into the nuthouse.

He didn't want to stop kissing Dean, but Dean broke it off with a chuckle. God, was he that bad of a kisser? He was definitely panting trying to catch his breath and so was Dean. For as long as Dean had been kissing him, he couldn't be that horrible, right? He wondered what was next. After Eric had kissed him, he had wanted Sam to give him a blow job. He really didn't want to do that. He wasn't ready to do that. Hopefully he could convince Dean to accept a hand job. He'd only ever jacked himself off of course, but how hard could it be?

Sam felt a little blush color his cheeks at the way Dean was looking at him. Apparently the chuckle hadn't been because he was a bad kisser. He blushed a little brighter at Dean's tease. Hell yes he was thinking, trying to figure out how best to make Dean happy with him next. He stayed still as Dean touched his face and his lips. Yeah, he was staring at his lips. Well crap. Dean was going to ask him to blow him. _First thing I’m going to teach you is how to put that pretty mouth of yours to much better use. Knew you were a cock whore the second I laid eyes on you._ Eric's words echoed in his mind and he felt a little sick.

He stared at the senior with outright shock when Dean offered that they could stop. He didn't want…? He felt relief swell in him. Dean was nothing like Eric. Nothing at all. He wanted to practically throw his arms around Dean and kiss him just for making that offer. It was like all the weight and worry was lifted from him, at least for the moment. They could stop. All Sam had to say was 'no.' But Dean was definitely hard as hell. So was Sam for that matter. They were both going to end up with blue balls if they didn't handle the problem and blue balls sucked. There were two bathrooms, but he'd feel funny using his parents to jack off in, and he wasn't about to send Dean into theirs.

"I…uh…I don't know. What else…what else did you have in mind? I've never…you know…made out with a guy before." He was sure his blush deepened which only made him want to blush more, being embarrassed because he was embarrassed.

* * *

Dean was really fucking glad that Sam didn’t tell him to stop. He would have. If the younger boy didn’t want to take this any further, Dean would have put a stop to it right then and there, no matter how much his dick might have screamed at him. Ok, so he might have still had to go into the bathroom to jerk off before he could face the parents units still upstairs. Just for the sake of decency. But he certainly wouldn’t have forced Sam to finish him off if the younger boy didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure that Sam knew that.

So the shock in Sam’s eyes followed immediately by the intense relief made Dean very glad that he’d made the offer. No matter how much discomfort he might have been in if Sam actually took him up on the opportunity to bail out.

The blush that stained the younger boy’s cheeks, practically to the tips of his ears, when Sam asked him what he wanted to do had Dean groaning softly in spite of himself. Fuck, Sam had absolutely no idea how adorable and enticing he looked right now at the same time. A combination Dean simply couldn’t resist as he found himself guiding Sam’s mouth back to his, kissing the younger boy slowly, as though to savor those sweet blushing lips.

“I can think of some things…” He whispered against Sam’s mouth before reaching down to grasp Sam’s thighs beneath his buttocks, straightening, and lifting the younger boy in one smooth motion. He turned, depositing Sam on the edge of the pool table, and pushed himself between the younger boy’s legs. In this position, Sam was actually a little bit taller than him and he had to lean up to continue their kiss.

“Lean back.” Dean finally said when he finally broke their kiss. One hand on Sam’s back, the other cupping the younger boy’s neck, Dean pushed forward. Nuzzling against the younger boy’s neck as he followed Sam down, guiding the younger boy backwards. He nipped and licked all the way to the other boy’s shirt collar. 

* * *

Kissing. He could definitely handle more kissing. Especially the way Dean kissed. Even with the words that spilled from Dean's lips he wasn't prepared when the muscular youth picked him up and if his mouth wasn't pressed against Dean's he would have yelped in surprise. His yelp turned into more of a muffled questioning sound. Sam was no lightweight and he marveled at the senior's strength. No wonder he could pound people into the ground. He wondered suddenly what Dean had done to the guys that had pounded on him. Something nice and painful he hoped.

Dean turned and Sam felt the hard surface of the pool table underneath him, his nervousness returning full force. The loss of pressure against his cock didn't help his discomfort.

He decided it was kind of cool that Dean had to lean up to kiss him. Dean was between his legs and he wondered if…did guys do it from the front? Is that what Dean had in mind? Did Dean plan on…butt fucking him? The senior was protecting him, he reminded himself. He stayed in one piece and Dean got to do whatever he wanted with Sam's body. And Dean wasn't like Eric so he knew Dean would at least show care with him. And if Dean wanted to …butt fuck him, okay, he'd try. He would honestly rather be fucked than give a blow job. He just couldn't…sucking on a guy's dick…it just couldn't possibly be pleasant. For the guy, sure, but for the one doing the work? And then if you didn't pull off in time you'd get a mouth full of semen? Ugh. No, butt-fucking was far more preferable. Well, he hoped it was anyhow.

He let Dean lay him back, surprised at how good it felt to have Dean's lips on his throat, to feel the little bites and licks. He hoped Dean didn't leave any marks though. That would be more than a little awkward to explain to his parents.

"No hickeys, at least not where my mom or dad can see them, okay?" Sam asked. He really didn't figure Dean would, because Dean surely wouldn't want to be found out either.

* * *

“No hickeys.” Dean agreed with a small chuckle. Giving Sam’s neck one last gentle nip as he pulled back to look down at the younger boy spread out beneath him.

His cock throbbing a little trapped inside his jeans as he imagined all the things he could do to Sam… all the things he wanted to do… but of course, he wouldn’t. Not today at least. Even if they had the time to do everything that Dean might want and there wasn’t a danger of someone coming down to check on them any minute, he didn’t want to overwhelm the younger boy. He wanted to take this slow. Sam deserved that.

That slight nervousness was back in Sam’s eyes, but the other boy didn’t tell him to stop. The trust in Sam’s eyes was almost humbling, and Dean gave the younger boy another reassuring smile as he let his hands settle on Sam’s hips and slowly move up. Slipping underneath the younger boy’s shirt and pushing it up as he went, caressing Sam’s stomach up to his chest. Dean dipped his head down to kiss along the strip of flesh on Sam’s abdomen, being careful of any lingering bruises and working his way up as more skin was revealed.

He rubbed his cheek against the soft part of Sam’s belly then traced the fluttering muscles of Sam’s stomach with his tongue, dipping and swirling into his belly button. When his fingers reached the younger boy’s nipples he started playing with them as Sam had played with his, circling and pinching lightly. He lightly nipped and licked along the younger boy’s ribs, looking up at Sam through his eyelashes, wondering if the younger boy was ticklish.

Working his way up Sam’s sternum he let his lips latch onto one of the younger boy’s nipples while his fingers continued to play with the other. His tongue tracing around the already hard nub, his teeth grazing teasingly, before he began sucking. 

* * *

Sam felt self conscious lying on the table, his erection obvious in his jeans. He could see the desire in the young man's eyes and he was both a little bit thrilled that he did that to Dean, and a little bit nervous. He trusted that Dean wouldn't hurt him. That was all that mattered. Whatever Dean wanted from him, he wouldn't hurt him to get it.

He really wanted to undo his pants though, because his erection was painful trapped like it was.

The smile Dean gave him eased his jitters. He jumped a little as Dean's callused hands slid under his shirt and he felt those fingers against his bare skin for the first time. His breath hitched at feeling Dean's kiss to his stomach. It felt pretty good really, and when Dean started playing around his belly button, it was a turn on, the way his wet tongue flicked in and out, almost like a promise of things to come.

When Dean began playing with his nipples Sam was not at all prepared for the sensations it shot through him and he groaned and shivered with each pinch and twist. Dean sucking at his nipple had him arching up against him. He hadn't thought he could get any fucking harder. He was wrong. He clutched Dean to him and wrapped his legs around Dean, giving him leverage to press his cock into the steel abs of the senior. Shit he was going to come in his pants with much more of this.

* * *

  
Sam's reactions were everything he had hoped for and more. He loved the way the younger boy clutched at him and the feel of Sam's hard cock rubbing against his stomach a turn on in of itself. The sweet moans and groans spilling from Sam's lips as he licked at the sensitive nubs on his chest was making Dean even harder, but he ignored his own arousal for the moment. Right now he was enjoying the way the younger boy was writhing beneath him in need too much.

As Dean's mouth switched from one of the younger boy's nipples to the other, he slid his hands back down Sam's body possessively. His fingers finding their way to the button of the younger boy's straining jeans and undoing it quickly. Sam's erection was straining against the zipper as Dean eased it down and slipped his hand down the front of the younger boy's jeans. 

He wrapped his hand around Sam's shaft and pushed himself up on one arm to look down at Sam as he began to stroke the younger boy's hard cock. Damn, Sam was so hard he was already leaking. Dean let his fingers curl around the head of Sam's dick on one upstroke, gathering some of the dripping precome to slick his fingers, and giving the younger boy a slicker channel to thrust through as he began to slowly jack him off. 

"Oh yeah… that's it, come on…" Dean whispered, encouraging, licking his lips as he watched Sam come undone.    


* * *

When Dean moved to his other nipple Sam was practically coming off the table, his head thrown back as he moaned. He was pretty much beyond thought. All he could feel was the pleasure washing through him as that hot wet mouth sucked at his nipple. Dean's touch became fire as his hands slid down him, leaving scorching hot skin and desire it their wake. He felt Dean's hand at the button to his jeans but he was too far gone to be embarrassed by the thought of a guy getting in his pants. He needed his jeans open so fucking bad at this point. When his cock was finally released from the confines of his jeans it was he could do to keep from groaning loudly in relief.

Dean's fingers wrapping around his shaft felt so good, and unbelievably better as Dean began to stroke him. The touch on his sensitive head, the slight pressure on his tip as Dean wiped away the precome, it was almost torturous. The slick come coated his shaft as Dean spread Sam's own seed along it.

The slow strokes were agony. Tightening his legs around Dean he began to fuck up into that hand, moaning with every push up. He hips began to snap up and he thrust faster and harder until he felt his balls draw up. He locked his jaw closed so he wouldn't shout. He arched up and his seed spilled forth in a white fountain. Once it was released he began thrusting again until a second spurt followed the first. He was covered in a sheen of sweat as he continued to thrust, but finally slowing down, his breath coming in short rapid pants.

* * *

Dean's eyes drank in the sight of the younger boy thrusting wantonly into his grip as he came and had to bite his own lip to keep from groaning loudly at the sight. Fucking hot didn't even begin to cover it as he watched Sam come, the hot spunk coating the younger boy's stomach. Feeling it dripping down the younger boy's pulsing shaft and fingers as he continued to stroke Sam through his orgasm.

He quickly undid his own jeans with his other hand, groaning in relief as he freed himself and began to stroke himself hard and fast. It didn't take long before he was coming as well, spilling into his own fist and along Sam's sweat slicked skin.

Gradually he slowed the movement of his hand along the younger boy's flesh, bringing Sam down slowly. The touch somehow more… intimate… now as he traced his fingers lightly up and down the younger boy's softening dick, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through them both.

Dean leaned down, his mouth covering Sam's with a low moan as he kissed the younger boy slowly.

* * *

Distantly he heard the sound of Dean undoing his own zipper. Was this where Dean found his hole and pushed in? His pants would have to come off but the way pleasure rippled through him, he didn't think he'd care, maybe not even notice if the senior shoved his dick up his ass. He decided having someone else jerk him off was a whole lot better than when he did it himself, even if it was a guy doing it. Dean's soft moans and grunts told him Dean was doing himself and he felt kind of guilty. Wasn't he the one that was supposed to be doing Dean? His body was still thrumming with pleasure when he heard the long soft groan and felt hot liquid spill across him. He moaned softly in response as the feel of Dean's spunk falling across him sent fresh shivers through him. What the hell? He was getting off on another guy coming on him? He couldn't deny it though. He had gotten Dean aroused enough that Dean had to jack himself off and that was another thrill. He'd never had anyone get that hot over him. Sure he wasn't experienced but…damn, that was cool as hell.

The feel of Dean's hand still wrapped around his softening shaft was…romantic? Oh Jesus, how lame was that? Whatever it was, Sam liked it, even though he knew he shouldn't. Hell, he was straight…wasn't he?

When Dean leaned over to kiss him, Sam decided he didn't care if he was straight or gay, not at this moment. He matched Dean's moan and reached down and pulled Dean's t-shirt up as high as he could. He arched up then, pressing himself against Dean, wanting Dean to feel that liquid cooling on his abdomen, flesh against flesh as he intensified the kiss. That felt so fucking great, sliding skin against sweat and come slickened skin.

He had never thought about there being layers of virginity. Either you had or you hadn't, right? He had never had the opportunity to slide his cock into the hot waiting velvet of a woman and thus lose his virginity. But getting jacked off, having his nipples sucked, turning on a guy enough to have them come on him, for him, because of him…that just had to meet the criteria on some level. He was only part virgin now. He couldn't help but laugh into Dean's mouth as Dean kissed him. Dean pulled back giving him a strange look.

"Brain. Thinking too much," Sam said with a grin. "I, uh, I kinda don't feel like a virgin anymore." He couldn't stop the sudden blush that crawled up his face to color his cheeks.

* * *

The feel of Sam’s hands tugging up the bottom of his shirt surprised him a little, but not as much as when he felt the younger boy arch beneath him. Rubbing his come slicked skin against his own and Dean couldn’t help but groan deeply as he licked his way into the younger boy’s mouth. Fuck, that was just so damned dirty and hot. Sam was just full of surprises, it seemed, and all of them good ones in Dean’s opinion.

When the younger boy began to laugh unexpectedly however, Dean reluctantly pulled back from their kiss an arched an eyebrow at Sam. Usually when he made someone come their brains out, laughter wasn’t the reaction he expected.

Sam’s explanation had Dean grinning as well and chuckling warmly.

“Glad I could help with that.” He replied, and then had to bite back a small moan that tried to escape watching the blush that stained the younger boy’s already flushed skin.

“Christ, Sammy…” Dean whispered as he leaned in to taste those sweet blushing lips again. He let his thumb tease over the sensitive slit at the tip of the younger boy’s dick as he pressed and rubbed his own softening cock against Sam’s stomach. Just wanting Sam to feel him.

“Keep doing that, and I might just have to help you lose it some more…” The older boy ‘warned’ as kissed his way down Sam’s neck, skipping over the bunched material of the younger boy’s shirt as he worked his way lower. Dean looked up at Sam, making sure the younger boy was watching him, as he dragged his tongue up the length of the other boy’s stomach from his navel to his nipple. Through the cooling mess on the younger boy’s skin with a pleased moan.

“Now that’s what I call desert.” Dean whispered, kissing Sam’s sensitive nipple one last time and giving the younger boy’s cock a long meaningful stroke before finally releasing him. Smiling, definitely pleased with himself, Dean finally straightened. “We should probably get cleaned up.”

* * *

He accepted Dean's kiss, surprised Dean's tongue wasn't back in his mouth. It was just sweet gentle kisses again and he sighed into them. Dean's touch on his tip made him shudder as a little ripple of pleasure washed through him. He felt Dean's cock press against him and decided he liked it better when Dean was all hard, hot and bothered for him. He wasn't sure what to feel at Dean's words. He couldn't deny he liked Dean's kisses and couldn't deny that Dean's attention had gotten him aroused, something he hadn't expected. Hell, he was sixteen though. It wasn't like it was hard to get him aroused. He just wasn't sure…he didn't know how much further with a guy he wanted to go, even if it was Dean. It didn't matter though. Whatever Dean wanted he'd give him, he thought with a sigh. This wasn't at all bad. Maybe the rest would be just as good. He could hope, anyhow. He just wished he had a chance with a girl first. Maybe it was better he didn't. Then he wouldn't know and feel regret or something.

He watched Dean lick up his stomach through their combined come and made a face. "I think I'll stick with strawberry shortcake."

Dean's hand running along his cock made him groan. "Shit, don't do that unless you want me dry humping you," Sam said, squirming. He gave mock scowl at Dean's smug look.  
"I got you just as hot," Sam teased. "Admit it."

He waved his hand over toward the chair. "I think there are some towels over there. If I sit up before this gets wiped off, I'll have to change and then Mom and Dad might wonder why."

He started to take the towel Dean held out to him but hesitated. "Did you want to do it? Wipe it off?" Was that something erotic too? He figured he might as well ask. It didn't really matter to him if he wiped it off or if Dean did, but it might matter to Dean.

* * *

Dean couldn’t decipher the look that passed over Sam’s face, and decided not to try. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like it. Though the look of mild disgust that the younger boy made when he’d licked their come from his skin had Dean chuckling a little. Though he’d initially planned on kissing Sam again, given the younger boy’s reaction he decided not to. He supposed he couldn’t really blame Sam. It was kind of an acquired taste. The first time Dean had sucked a guy off he’d thrown up afterwards... of course Dean had been a lot younger than Sam and the circumstances had been very different...

Cutting off that particular line of thought abruptly, Dean only laughed again at Sam’s complaint and teasing. He didn’t admit it, but he certainly wasn’t going to deny it either. Sam had gotten him pretty fucking hot without hardly trying.

Dean looked over where Sam pointed him towards a couple of towels and went over to grab a couple and he couldn’t help smirking a little as he came back. The younger boy looked quite debaunched. His shirt hiked up to his armpits, his jeans open, his cock hanging out. A light sheen of sweat and come covering his chest and stomach. They really had made quite a mess of Sam. Dean probably wasn’t in a much better state. It was a wonder that they didn’t get anything on the pool table itself, and that was probably a very good thing considering that would have been a hell of a lot harder to explain than Sam having to change clothes.

Sam’s question if he wanted to wipe the younger boy down had Dean pausing, giving the younger boy a considering look, before he finally shook his head and dropped the towel onto Sam’s stomach. He stepped back then, giving Sam space to clean himself off and get his clothes straightened. Dean pulled off his own shirt over his head to keep anything from getting on it as he wiped down his chest, stomach, and groin. Satisfied, Dean wiped off his hands last and tucked himself back away and zipped up his jeans.

Hearing the sound of footsteps upstairs that might be approaching the basement, Dean quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on. 

* * *

Sam saw Dean considered it, so he would remember to offer in the future. He wiped himself down. God what a mess. Was sex always so messy? He gave a small chuckle to himself. Well, that was kind of a duh. Yes, it probably was. Once he wiped himself down he pulled down his shirt, wiped off his cock, and resituated his dick before he zipped up. He looked up when he heard footsteps. Those were his mom's.

From the kitchen she called down, "Boys finish up. We're getting ready to have dessert."

"Okay Mom. Be there in a few." He glanced over at Dean. That was good timing. He folded up the towel he had used. "I'm going up to the bathroom and wipe down a little better. You're welcome to come." When Dean handed him the towel he used, Sam folded it. Taking the towels and his beer, he headed up the stairs and was glad to see his mother was already gone from the kitchen. Good. He headed to his bathroom and turned on the sink, tossing the used towels in his hamper. Pulling off his shirt, he ran the rag over his chest then quickly wiped it clean and dried off. Pulling his shirt back on, he ran his fingers through his hair. It was a little sweaty, but he could just blame that on the washing his face which he did. He looked at himself in the mirror. Yep. Still looked a little bruised and beat up, but nothing else. He just hoped to God he didn't blush or something when he went out to greet his parents. Or Bobby. He had a feeling Bobby would know right off.

He hurried back down the hall. No blushing, he told himself. No blushing. Just act cool like all they did was shoot the shit and shoot pool, instead of shoot spunk all over each other. Dammit, no blushing.

He came out and plopped down at the table. Bobby had already cut up the pound cake and ladled strawberries over the top, capping it with reddi-whip. Sam saw the table was already cleared of the food and dishes. Probably what his mom brought it when she called them because he hadn't heard her come in prior to that. He hoped she hadn't or she might have heard noises that told her they certainly weren't playing pool.

"You two have a good time?" Keiko asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Dean's real good at pool, but I won a couple games at least." He set the beer aside. Beer and dessert were not his idea of a good mix. He grinned when his father set down a couple cold cokes on the table. "Thanks. Sorry, Mom, we should have helped you clean up."

"Pfft. We wiped most everything out. Wasn't much clean up aside from loading up the trash can with the paper plates. Your father stole my archery partner to go talk cars," she said, giving her husband a teasing glare.

"You got him while I was cooking. Only fair I got him afterwards."

* * *

Dean almost snorted when Sam’s mom called down for them to ‘finish up’. Yup, they’d just finished up all right. When the younger boy said he was going up to the bathroom to finish wiping down, Dean simply nodded, handing over the towel he’d used to clean up with.

He considered the younger boy’s offer, but merely shook his head and watched Sam head up the stairs. Dean wasn’t really in the mood for desert anyway.

Grabbing his beer from the edge of the pool table Dean took a long drink from it, mulling over everything that had just happened. He couldn’t decide if he was kind of glad that Bobby had dragged him here or not. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed what had just happened between him and Sam. He had. A hell of a lot more than he’d been expecting. Not that he’d ever thought Sam would be a lousy lay but... Sam had made him feel better than he had in a while.

Now that it was over Dean felt the familiar tension settling back over him as he was expected to return to the whole god damn family picnic... then again, why should he? They probably wouldn’t even notice he was absent.

Walking over to the stereo system with his beer Dean turned the music up a little. Not so that it was blaring or anything, but enough to fill the absence of sound now that Sam was gone. Then he walked over to the dart board that Sam had pointed out to him earlier and grabbed the darts then he stood back and began tossing the darts with well practiced precision. Intending to keep going until it was time to leave or Bobby came downstairs to yell at him, whichever came first.

* * *

Sam glanced around for Dean and frowned. Was he still pouting or whatever? With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. Bobby touched his arm.

"Let him be. If he wants to miss out on dessert…it's just the way Dean is at times. I made him come."

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm not going to let him stay in that basement, sulking."

Heading inside he went to the door leading to the basement and went down the steps. He watched as Dean threw a bulls eye with the dart. He walked up behind Dean and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. "Please, come up and have dessert. I'm coming over to your place every day after school, right? My parents…they kinda would like to get to know you a little. If I'm going to be spending so much time with you, they want to know who they're entrusting their kid to. I know you don't want to be here but please? …I'll make it worth your while this week. Whatever you want. Just please? Come up and try to be social? Eat some dessert then shoot a few arrows with Mom? At least go look at Dad's car? It'll make them feel better about the situation. Maybe you don't care, but I care. If you do that, I'll bet it will make Bobby happy and you can convince him it's time to go, that you've got homework or something to finish."

* * *

Of course Dean heard the footsteps coming down the stairs but didn’t turn his attention away from the dart board he was aiming at. He’d honestly expected it to be Bobby ready to chew his ass out and probably drag him home by his ear, maybe literally, so Dean was a little surprised by the slender arms wrapping around his waist.

Sam?

Dean wasn’t sure if he was more surprised by the fact that Sam had come to fetch him or by the _hug_ the younger boy was giving him now. Dean definitely wasn’t the hugging type, but he didn’t pull out of Sam’s embrace, even as his lips turned down in a frown as the younger boy practically begged him to come upstairs and be ‘social’.

He didn’t know why it mattered so damned much to the younger boy what his parents might think of him, but Dean merely sighed as he quickly tossed the remaining darts in his hand at the target.

“Fine.” He said finally, trying not to sound as resigned as he felt but probably failing. If it would make Sam’s happy for Dean to ‘charm’ his parents, he’d do it, and the younger boy did say he’d make it worth his while.

So Dean slipped out of Sam’s embrace and followed the younger boy back up the stairs. When they went outside, Dean smiled a little sheepishly at the adults and apologized. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

* * *

Dean definitely did not sound like he wanted to come out of the 'batcave' as his mom sometimes called the basement, but dammit, he knew his parents and knew they would want to get more than one word sentences from Dean. They hardly knew Bobby and Dean. Sam hardly knew them and yet they were all put their trust in these strangers. He couldn't deny Bobby had helped him and so had Dean, without asking for anything. Well, initially anyhow, and it was Sam, after all that had asked for their current arrangement. He couldn't blame Dean for that. He knew Eric was going to cause all sorts of problems for Dean. And it…it hadn't been bad.

With Dean's agreement, he headed back upstairs. He was a little shocked when Dean actually said a whole sentence to his parents. He saw Bobby cock an eyebrow at the two of them then wordlessly dished out a dessert for Dean, putting in a small piece of cake, a lot of strawberries and extra whipped cream, just the way he liked it. Bobby slid it in front of Dean.

"Hey Mom, would you get out your special bow?" Sam asked. "I bet Dean and Bobby would both like to see it."

Keiko hesitated then smiled. "Okay. Let me dig it out."

"Yeah, like it's buried back in a closet or something," Sam snorted.

"Watch yourself young man or you'll be washing and waxing my SUV next weekend," she scolded him.

"Just because you can't reach the roof…"

"That why I made you drink all that milk. So you'd get tall," she tossed over her shoulder as she went into the house. A few minutes later she carried out an intricately carved wooden case, silver inlaid in various places. She set it gingerly on the table and opened it. Inside was a gleaming dark wood bow. Japanese symbols were etched along it and the grip was wrapped in leather. Arrows were also inside the case, also of black wood, but the feather flights were snowy white feathers. The tips were silvered along the edges, but the arrowheads themselves looked like iron. More symbols were painted on the shafts.

She lifted it out reverently, gave a slight bow, whispering something soft in Japanese, and then strung the bow. She smiled at Bobby and Dean. "This was my ancestral father's bow. He was a samurai it is said. His swords has been passed down through the men of my family, but because I have such a talent in archery, this bow was given to me by my cousin for safekeeping. The meaning of these words or symbols have been long forgotten. We have found no one who has been able to translate them."

Bobby stood up and after wiping his hands clean went around the table to stare at the bow. "May I?" he asked.

She gave a slight nod and he accepted the weapon with a proper Japanese bow. He studied the symbols. "'Kinryumaru', I think, Bobby said with surprise. "Highly unusual to name a bow. Gold Dragon, for lack of better translation."

"You can read this?" she gasped.

"I study ancient texts," Bobby said. "Japanese among them. I can only get the gist of the symbols. Warrior-strong-evil-slayer. Sorry, that's about the best I can get without doing some serious research and even then, I'm not sure I can translate it. Give me some pictures and I'll see what I can do, but I'm not promising a thing. He handed the bow back to her and then looked at the arrows pulling one out with her permission. Bobby scratched his head. "I don't think it's writing, more like symbols." He carefully placed the arrow back in its case. "Truly magnificent, Keiko. I—we—are deeply honored for you to share this with us."

Keiko smiled then asked, "Would you like to shoot with it? It has to be used to keep it flexible. But not those arrows. I fear they would be damaged."

"I would love to shoot that bow," Bobby said, his voice filled with awed sincerity.

Sam grinned at Dean. "I figured he would like it."

* * *

Dean ignored the questioning look Bobby gave him. Taking his seat and giving a nod of thanks for the desert that the older man made for him without a word. Yeah, he probably looked a lot more relaxed than he’d been. The frown he’d been wearing almost the entire time here smoothed away, and though he didn’t actively engage in the conversation happening around him, he met everyone’s eyes and even grinned a little at the banter between Sam and his mother.

Only Bobby would probably realize it was complete bullshit. That Dean was simply pulling on the mask that the young man used most often with customers or when they had to deal with interviewing people when they went on hunts. Yes, Dean could be quite charming when he wanted to be. But it was just another skill. Something he used to get what he wanted, whether it was information from a witness to a case or a free piece of pie from an elderly diner waitress.

Dean knew quite well that Sam’s parents had no interest in ‘getting to know him, as Sam put it. Hell, he knew that Sam didn’t really give a damn about ‘getting to know him’ either. Sam just wanted him to put on an act for his parents, play nice, so that they wouldn’t think their son was hanging around a freak. So he would, this once, and hopefully everyone would be satisfied and he never had to see their fucking faces again.

When Sam’s mother brought out the ‘special’ bow, as Sam called it, Dean had to admit it was pretty damned impressive. Dean might not know what the heck the symbols carved into the wood meant, but both he and Bobby had seen enough weapons like it to know exactly what it was. That thing had been used to kill evil. The young man couldn’t help but smirk as Bobby went all geek over it, showing off his translation skills for Sam’s parents. If anyone could translate an ancient dead language, it was Bobby. The older hunter looked like a five year old that had just been given the biggest lollipop in the world when Sam’s mom offered to let him shoot it.

“Yeah.” Dean agreed with Sam, watching in amusement as Bobby continued to gush over the bow while Dean finished off his desert. 

* * *

Sam watched as his Mom was the first to notch an arrow and gingerly pull back on the string. She showed Bobby exactly how far the string should be pulled, then she let loose the flight. The arrow found it's mark with perfect precision. She handed it off to Bobby, helped make sure his stance was perfect and his pull was perfection. His arrow slid along the first and buried its head beside Keiko's.

"Damn," Bobby breathed.

"It's like magic when I use it," Keiko admitted. "I can loose more arrows using this bow than I can with any other. They always fly true, as if the arrows know exactly where I want them to go."

She showed Bobby the speed with which she could fire and grinned when a few mere seconds later arrows were buried in the target in a perfect circle around the bullseye. "If they had let me shoot at the Olympics with this bow, I'd have taken that gold," she said wistfully. She retrieved the arrows and set them up for Bobby. "You try. See how fast you can fire."

Bobby took the bow and notched the first arrow. In a flurry of movement and only a bit slowly than Keiko, all the arrows were in the target. Not quite as perfect a circle, but still quite close. Shaking his head, Bobby said, "That's amazing."

He knew without a doubt it was magically enhanced, certain some of those symbols enhanced the bow and the archer who held it. He suddenly wished he could see the samurai swords of which she spoke. They too were probably more than mere swords.

"Dean," Bobby said, "I want you to try this. Come on over here." He glanced at Keiko. "He's pretty good with a bow himself. You don't mind do you?"

"So long as he gives the bow the respect it is due, he may fire it." She looked over at her son. "You too Sam. It's been a while since you've had a chance to fire it and you've grown since then."

"That's because you always practice with it when I'm not home," he teased her as he got to his feet and wiped his hands clean on the wet towel that he tossed to Dean.

* * *

Dean watched from his seat as Sam’s mom and then Bobby used the bow, and he had to admit he was impressed. Bobby was a pretty good fucking shot anyway, but he’d still never seen the older hunter fire that fast or that accurately before.

Yup, that bow was definitely special. Their kind of special. Of course no one but he and Bobby would ever know that. If Bobby translated the rest of those symbols they could never tell this nice suburban family what they really meant. Even if Sam and his parents believed in that sort of thing, that the bow was magic, blessed, whatever, they certainly couldn’t tell them how they knew that. Or, given the brief translation Bobby had done, that it was probably used to kill evil creatures of some kind a long time ago. Sam and his parents would think they were raving lunatics.

No, the bow was going to just be a nice family heirloom, something pretty to hang on the wall and show off on occasion. Maybe one day it would be sold and end up in the hands of some hunter that would use it the way it was meant to be used, but today certainly wouldn’t be that day.

When Bobby called him over, Dean shook his head.

“I’ll pass.” He told the older man. Yeah, he’d told Sam he’d attempt to ‘socialize’ with his parents, but there was no way he was going to touch that thing. With his luck he would and the fucking thing would snap in half.

Still, Dean got up and followed Sam, wiping off his hands on his jeans and ignoring the towel the younger boy had tossed him. He picked up one of the other bows, that weren’t worth a small fortune, instead. 

* * *

Sam took the offered bow and let his mother show him the proper pull. He was taller and stronger now and it had been awhile. After a few practice shots he did the multi-shot and nearly repeated his mother in accuracy and time. He and Bobby traded the bow back and forth between them at his mother's encouragement.

Keiko watched as Dean picked up a medium quality bow and began shooting arrows into targets. He had the same technique as Bobby so Bobby surely taught him, which made sense of course. Sort of. Not many people did archery now a days though. She studied him, his stance, the look of concentration on his face. He wasn't with them. He was somewhere else, shooting something other than the target on the fence. She waited for him to return to the here and now before she approached him.

"You're a good shot," she said with a smile. "Go ahead, notch the next arrow." She helped him adjust his stance and his grip on the bow, both just minor adjustments. "Don't pull back quite so far. While you're getting a bit more power behind it, you're loosing accuracy. Just like with guns, holding your breath is a good idea to keep your aim steady. A long bow should have no tilt to it."

She grabbed a bow and came back to Dean's side and notched two arrows. She aimed and made minor adjustments on how she held them, then loosed both arrows. Each arrow hit a separate target in their center rings. She grinned at Dean. "I can teach you how to do that if you want." 

* * *

Dean watched Sam shoot the special bow, more than a little impressed, but considering his mother was so good and all he wasn’t really surprised. Then he turned his attention away from the younger boy and focused on his own target. After a few practice shots he quickly got a feel for the weapon and did almost as well as Bobby as far as accuracy. Not good enough though, Dean knew, and the older hunter would probably have him practicing with the bow some more. It wasn’t good to get rusty with any weapons of the trade.

He remembered the first time that Bobby had shown him how to shoot a gun. He’d been horrible, of course, but he’d been determined to learn, to become a good shot, as good as Bobby was so that he could go on hunts with the older man. Within a couple of months, he was shooting the “o’s” out of rows of coke cans off the fence with deadly precision. He practiced every day, he studied the ancient texts that the older hunter gave him, he’d sharpened his hand to hand combat skills, knife throwing, everything and anything that Bobby would teach him. Within a year of living with Bobby, the older man had taken him on his first hunt. Just a simple salt and burn, but shooting that fucking spirit full of rock salt while Bobby was busy setting its bones on fire was one of the best moments of his life.

Dean remembered the first time he’d had to use a bow to kill something. Fucking harpies. He hadn’t been practicing with it for very long, but an iron tipped arrow coated in lamb’s blood was the only thing that could kill the fuckers. Bobby had been knocked out and Dean had been trying to kill one of the bitches and earned a nasty gouge out of his side from the other harpy before he’d finally managed to shoot the thing through the heart. Sam’s fingers had traced over that very scar when they’d been making out…

The young man lowered the bow, waiting for the others to finish shooting before he went to retrieve his arrows. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam’s mom came up to him and began telling him everything he was doing wrong. When it was Bobby criticizing him, or even other hunters, it had never really bothered Dean.

But what the fuck did she know? She did this for ‘sport’. When was the last time she had shot an evil fucking thing that was trying to rip out her liver? What did she know when you might need that extra bit of ‘power’ to shoot through flesh and bone as tough as armor? When you were shooting to kill… she didn’t even kill little furry animals. But of course he couldn’t say _that_. Sam and Bobby expected him to play nice. Dean lowered the bow he’d been using, watching as Mrs. Robin Hood shot two arrows at once. Nice trick. But that’s all it was. Dean forced himself to return her smile, even as he replaced the bow he’d been using on the table with the others.

He’d had enough.

“Maybe later.” He told her. Yeah right, like he was ever coming here again. Then he turned to Bobby. “I’m done.” He told the older man, and he didn’t just mean shooting. He was leaving, even if Dean had to walk all the way home. Yeah, he’d told Sam… but he didn’t care. He hated this place. He hated Sam’s parents. He didn’t even really know why he hated them so much, he just wanted to leave. 

* * *

Bobby looked at Dean, nothing but his eyes betraying his anger with the young man. He gave a nod and a smile. "'Course. You got that paper to write tonight," he said with a bit of a smile. Bobby turned to Keiko and Jim. "It was awful nice of you folks to have us over. Sorry we can't stay. I've had a real fine time. And thank you for sharing that beautiful bow with us. We are deeply honored."

"Well I'm glad one of you enjoyed yourselves," Keiko said, giving a glance to the sulking teen who was already headed into the house, Sam hot on his heels.

"You'll have to forgive the boy," Bobby said apologetically. "He don't take to strangers real well."

"Somehow I suspect we'll still be strangers to him ten years from now," she said. She glanced at her husband before returning her gaze to the older man. "Don't misunderstand me, Bobby, but if Sam expresses any discomfort with the situation, it stops. If Dean's attitude infects our son…" she shook her head. "He's all we've got. I won't permit Dean's anti-social behavior to hurt Sam. I would like to say I like Dean, but how can I when it's obvious he holds only contempt and loathing for us? I realize he's terribly troubled and based upon what you've told me, it's no surprise. Sam's getting a few hard lessons right now. All Dean has had is hard lessons. That's all he'll ever have until he learns that every person he meets isn't a monster. We're willing to give him that chance, we're willing to try to make him part of our family, to call him our friend, but," and her eyes grew hard at this point, "we won't grovel. We are glad he is watching out for our son, but we're a package deal."

Bobby shook his head. "I wouldn't count on anything changing with Dean, Keiko. If you push, he's gone, plain and simple."

She gave a solemn nod. "Whatever happens, know that his protection for Sam is appreciated. Whatever his anger at the world is," she shrugged, "he will always be miserable unless he finds more people might care about him and for him than just you."

"You hardly know him," Bobby countered. "You've no room to judge."

"We want to get to know him Bobby. Deny he has anyone but you. If something happens to you, that young man will self destruct and be dead within the year. He has befriended our son, we've had a lovely time in your company. I would like, I would hope, between you and Sam, that a bridge might be built between our two families." She gave him a small smile. "But my father always said I was a dreamer." She sighed. "Tell him we were pleased he came and hope that he might come again."

She gathered Bobby's dishes and places them in a bag. "Sorry, I would have washed them if you had been able to stay longer."

"That's fine, ma'am," Bobby said, not quite sure what to make of Keiko at this point.

Sam followed Dean out to the Impala. "Sorry you hated it here," Sam said, "and that you don't like my parents. Will you…will you still be picking me up in the morning? Are you still going to…sponsor…me?"

* * *

Yeah, Bobby was pissed at him. Dean could see it in his eyes, but the older man backed him up anyway. Paper. Right. More like push-ups or running laps around the junkyard until his legs felt like they were going to fall off. After Bobby was done chewing him out of course.

But he was still grateful to the older man, giving Bobby half a smile and nod before he turned to head inside the house and out to the car. He heard Sam’s mom’s comment before he went inside, but he didn’t really care.

Dean glanced at Sam, a little surprised the younger boy was following him. Maybe Sam wanted to chew him out too before he left. He wouldn’t blame the younger boy.

So he was a little surprised when Sam apologized to him. He wondered if this was some kind of trick question. Was he supposed to reassure Sam now that he hadn’t hated it here and didn’t hate his parents?

Sorry, but he wasn’t going to lie to the boy.

When Sam hesitantly asked him if he was still going to pick him up for school, to sponsor him, Dean’s expression softened a little. He didn’t want Sam to think he hated him. He didn’t…

“Yeah… if you still want me to…” Dean answered, though he certainly wouldn’t have blamed Sam if he had changed his mind and didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. 

* * *

Sam didn't honestly know what to feel or how to react. What had his family done that made Dean hate them so? Or did Dean just hate everyone? Except Bobby. And Sam…but he didn't hate Sam for other reasons. He wanted to fuck Sam.

Sam's jaw clenched. Maybe Dean and Eric weren't so different. Dean was just a mirror image. Eric pretended to like his parents while being violent with Sam. Dean was gentle with Sam but let his hate for Sam's parents show. But it all came down to the same thing. Neither boy gave a rat's ass about his parents, both hated or mocked his parents. As for Sam, he was just a sex toy. Nothing more. Something 'pretty' to have beside them in their own special flavor of hot car.

So roughed up and beat down by Eric, but all the sparklies he and his parents could dream of and probably a free ride to college if he made the right deal. Or the junkyard dog who was at least nice to him, but hated his family, hell, maybe hated him and just pretended to be nice. He had promised to teach Sam to fight though.

He wondered what Dean would do if he told him no, he didn't want to see his face again.

Dean would go away, that's what he would do. Eric wouldn't. Hadn't. Maybe wasn't going to until he got a piece of Sam's ass. He wondered if he let Eric fuck him if that would be enough and Eric would leave him alone.

Probably not.

"Yeah. The deal's still on," Sam finally said. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Since I don't have to worry about walking to the bus stop, you can pick me up between eight and eight fifteen, unless you…unless you want to pick me up earlier. Parents are gone by seven or seven fifteen." As soon as he learned to fight well enough to defend himself against those shits, the arrangement could end. Until then, he'd give Dean whatever he wanted, pretty much whenever he wanted. Dean was still better than Eric. Even if Dean hated his parents. At least he was honest about it.

* * *

Sam didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t need to. The younger boy’s eyes told Dean a lot. At the look Sam was giving him, Dean’s expression shifted back into the cold impassive mask he wore around everyone.

Sam was definitely pissed off with him… well, join the club. Maybe he should have told Sam that he hadn’t completely hated his entire time here. He certainly hadn’t hated the time he’d spent alone with the younger boy…

Maybe it would be better if he just kept his damned mouth shut though. It would have been better if he never came here, and damn the hunt. Not like Bobby was probably going to take him along anyway… now… after everything.

Dean was a little surprised at the spark of… relief… he felt when Sam confirmed that their deal was still on. That Sam wasn’t kicking him to the curb. He nodded slightly when the younger boy told him when to pick him up, though when Sam told him he could pick him up early… if he wanted… Dean stared at him almost as long as Sam had before.

It was obvious that Sam didn’t really want… he was just making him the offer, a payment, for the ride to school. Yeah, that’s all this was, right? But right now, the reminder, while hate was burning in Sam’s eyes was like a kick in the nuts.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” Dean finally answered before he turned away from Sam and got in the car, waiting for Bobby. 

* * *

The way Dean's face grew suddenly so cold was practically like a slap in the face. He had grown accustomed, even in such a short time to seeing something, anything in Dean's eyes other than the …deadness… he saw now. He didn't like that look. He didn't like it at all. It smacked too much of Eric. Yeah, sure he'd just been comparing him to Eric, and some of it was true. But not all of it. Even if Dean wanted to fuck him, he had done a lot for Sam for no reason at all. He was just so damned confused by it all.

Sam was honestly surprised when Dean turned down his offer of a morning quickie. He chewed on his lip a minute. So Dean hated his parents for no obvious reason what so ever. That really upset him, he had to admit. If his parents had done anything, said anything for them to deserve it, but dammit, they hadn't. Mom even offered to let him shoot her bow. And she didn't let anyone shoot that bow except him. He knew she let Bobby shoot it because he could translate some of the words on it and because he respected the bow and obviously knew how to use one. But Dean wouldn't know that. He had no idea of the great honor his mother had paid him and Bobby. He was also a bit baffled. His mother had told him long ago what the writing on the bow and arrows said. He didn’t understand why she pretended not to know. Well, maybe she had simply made up something because Sam badgered her about it. He remembered the stories of the golden dragon fighting the evil shadows and demons of the lands. He just figured they were made up stories, like Grimm's fairy tales, but the fact the bow was called the golden dragon…nah. Just tall tales passed through the family line.

He saw Dean sitting in the car and Dean looked kind of …miserable and Sam knew it was his fault. He looked around. No one was out and Bobby hadn't shown up yet. He knocked on the window. While Dean rolled it down, he glanced around one more time then leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Dean's lips. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

What the fuck was taking Bobby so god damned long?

While Dean had been ready to leave from the moment he’d gotten here, in the last few minutes he’d passed the limit of his patience. He wasn’t going to stay in this fucking suburban hellhole for one minute longer.

It probably didn’t help that he could still see Sam standing outside the car from the corner of his eye even if he didn’t look at the younger boy. What the hell was Sam waiting for? Had he changed his mind after all about wanting his help?

If that was the case, Dean knew he shouldn’t give a damn. If the younger boy wanted to get the shit kicked out of him until he ended up in the hospital, or until he got himself ass raped by half the sadistic bastards that went to that school, then Dean shouldn’t give a fuck. He shouldn’t care. Hell, it would even make his life a whole hell of a lot easier not having to watch Sam’s back as well as his own.

But Dean did care. The thought of any of those things happening to Sam… Dean remembered again how he’d felt when he found Sam laying there on the floor. Just thinking about what might have happened instead if Dean had gotten there later, and what _would_ happen to the younger boy without him… it made his gut clench so hard he was regretting eating desert after all.

When Sam knocked on the window, his stomach clenched even harder, but he forced his expression to remain impassive even as he rolled the window down. Maybe even if Sam didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore he could still… try…

The light kiss Sam gave him completely halted his thoughts in his tracks and he stared at the younger boy a little dumbfounded. It just… took him by surprise. Oh no, there was no way in _hell_ he was blushing. Dean cleared his throat a little and nodded.

“Yeah.” He finally managed, letting out a sigh of relief when he finally saw Bobby, since this was starting to get really awkward. 

* * *

Sam smirked a little. "And I always thought I was too old to still be blushing."

Seeing Bobby, he straightened and gave him a nod and small smile. "Thanks for coming Bobby. I guess maybe I'll see you tomorrow after school."

"Yep. Guess so. Try not to get beat up this time, huh kid?"

"I'll try," Sam said.

Bobby got in the car and shut the door, noticing just a hint of color staining Dean's cheeks. The car rumbled to life and he waved back at Sam as Dean guided the car out into the street and pointed it toward their home. He had a lot of questions he wanted to ask but hardly knew where to begin or if he should even ask them. They were halfway home before Bobby finally reached over and turned down the blaring radio.

"'Fore you ask, yes, yer still coming on the hunt. Though for the way you acted toward them folk I outta hang you by yer ears." He'd wondered if Dean and Sam were 'together' or if Dean was sponsoring the boy, but the light blush he had seen on Dean pretty much answered that question. Sam seemed…okay with it, so unless he saw a change, he'd leave it be and leave it unasked and unanswered. Dean's sex life 't'weren't his business though Sam was underage and technically Dean could get himself charged with statutory rape if the relationship went south. He just prayed it didn't. Another reason to keep his nose out of it for now. Let it go the way it went.

"So out with it, boy. What demon crawled up your ass? The parents support you and Sam's friendship, support him coming to the junkyard after school, and tried to make you part of the gathering. They seem like nice decent folk. I know…I know I ain't been able to give you an apple pie life, but I thought maybe you might like to just have a day off from training, from working in the yard, from schoolwork, and being with Sam. Eating barbque chicken. Hell boy, we talked yer two favorite subjects, weapons and old cars. You'd have thought they were talking about putting you in a pink tutu or something. And don't be feeding me no bullshit. Straight and simple. Why were you being an ass to them? Did they do something I don't know 'bout?"

* * *

Dean gave the younger boy a mock glare at his teasing and decided he was going to try to make Sam blush as much as he possibly could tomorrow. When Bobby finally got in the car, Dean gave Sam a nod before starting her up and pulling out into the street. His tension in his shoulders beginning to melt away and he wondered if it had more to do with the kiss Sam had given him before they left or the miles they were putting between them and Sam’s house.

He wasn’t too surprised when Bobby reached over and turned off his music. He was more surprised the older man hadn’t done it sooner, in fact.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding when Bobby said he was still going to let him go on the hunt with him. Dean was relieved, not only for the chance to be able to hunt a werewolf, but because he’d always hated it when Bobby went off on hunts alone with no one to watch his back. If anything ever happened to Bobby…

Bobby’s questions weren’t much of a surprise, but Dean wasn’t exactly sure how to answer them because he didn’t know exactly _why_ he hated those people so much. At the most he should probably feel indifference to them… and he had at first. But for some reason the more they tried to ‘get to know him’ the more he hated them. Maybe it was because they reminded him too much of some foster parents he’d had growing up, all smiles and shit when he’d met them, and then after a while… Or maybe it was something else. He didn’t know…

But he certainly wasn’t going to tell Bobby that. Bobby knew he hated talking about his past more than anything, and he wasn’t even really sure if that was the reason or not, so he wasn’t about to bring it up.

“They don’t give a damn about me. They just want to make sure that Sam isn’t hanging out with the riffraff.” Dean said instead with a soft snort and shook his head. “Too bad that’s exactly what Sam is doing and I’m not going to pretend otherwise just for them.”

* * *

"Bullshit. They do give a damn, you just ain't given them a chance," Bobby said. "If they thought you was riff raff boy, they would not have shown you that they owned a bow that was probably worth a small fortune and that her family has the two swords that go with it. Though she didn't say, there's probably that samurai's armor somewhere in the family too. They wouldn't be letting Sam hang out with you, even if you was offering your protection, if they thought you were scum, boy. They love their son. Right now they ain't too impressed with your anti-social behavior and neither am I. You want to piss off some stranger on a hunt, go right ahead. I've seen you charm damned near anyone you want to. You didn't even try. They ain't trying to fool anyone with anything. What have they got to win by befriending a junkman and his kid?"

Bobby wondered if someone in Dean's past, someone who looked like one of them abused him. It just didn't make no sense otherwise.

"Sammy seems to like you. Going to one of their picnics every once in awhile ain't gonna kill you. You get too ugly with them though, and they might decide you're just too damned spiteful and tell you and Sam it ain't working. They're protective of Sam…just like you are."

Bobby gave a soft sigh, "Look kid, if you care about Sammy, hating his parents ain't going to win you no points. He loves 'em. They love him. Whatever it is that raises your hackles, yer gonna have to find a way to deal with it. Ignoring it ain't going to make it go away. Them folks are social folks. They're gonna invite us again to another one of their shindigs, bet my hat on it. You refusing to come, again and again, and Sam just ain't gonna like that. How'd you feel if you found yerself a friend, someone you just really hit it off with, but soon as he laid eyes on me he hated me? Wanted nothing to do with me. Wouldn't give me the time of day to save his soul. After a little while, no matter how much you might like him, might want to be his best friend, would you try anymore? Could you have any sort of relationship with someone who loathed me like I was rotting corpse and ought to be put back in the ground? And while you're thinking on that, let's say this friend of yours has been violent now and again. Never against you. Fact he's done some things to people who gave you a rough time. And me, let's say I don't got no weapons, don't know how to fight. Do you think that maybe after time after time of seeing that hate in his eyes for me, that you might be thinking he hates me enough to maybe get rid of me so he ain't got no competition when it comes to you?

"I'm not asking you to walk in and hug 'em and treat 'em like long lost kin. I taught you how to be respectful. ' Yes ma'am, no ma'am, yes sir, no sir. Thank you very much ma'am. I 'preciate the offer but no thank you ma'am.' Being polite, being respectful, harmless smiles, no matter how much you dislike 'em, that will at least keep the peace. They'll figure out soon enough that ain't the social type but they won't think you're the hateful type. You be thinking on that while you're running yer laps when we get home. You can piss away your anger while you're doing target practice after that."

* * *

As Bobby laid into him, Dean’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel in his hand till he was practically strangling it. His knuckles were bone white, and actually beginning to ache, but he couldn’t ease up his hold. His expression remained cold and blank however, giving nothing away of the turmoil inside of him.

What the fuck did Bobby know! So what about the fucking bow! So she had wanted to show off. Big fucking deal! Was he supposed to be impressed?

He didn’t give a flying fuck what they thought about him. He wasn’t going to jump through hoops for anyone. Not them. Not even Bobby. Bobby was an idiot, or delusional, if he thought that they actually wanted _friendship_ with him, or Bobby for that matter. He didn’t know what they wanted, and he didn’t care. Bobby was right, they had absolutely _nothing_ to gain. Why the fuck did Bobby give a damned what they thought about him anyway!

And if Bobby thought he was ever going to one of their fucking backyard parties again, he really was delusional. The street out front where he was going to pick Sam up and drop him off again was the closest he was getting to that damned house ever again. If they didn’t like it, if Sam didn’t like it, well tough shit.

Bobby seemed to be laboring under the assumption that he and Sam were actually _friends_. They weren’t even close. They had an arrangement, nothing more. Sam got something from him. He got something from Sam. As soon as Sam didn’t need him anymore, Sam was going to kick him to the curb, just like everyone else. The way even Bobby eventually would when the older man got tired of him…

“Yes sir.” Dean finally snapped, when the older hunter was done speaking. 

* * *

Bobby sighed to himself. Sometimes the boy baffled him. He knew it was Dean's defense mechanism; don't let people get too close and it won't hurt when they turn away. He had read Dean's file. Dean went through fifteen families in eleven years. He disappeared when he was twelve. Reappeared when he was fourteen in Bobby's junkyard. The boy wasn't going to stay but it was winter and he didn't seem real inclined to run. He hardly spoke to Bobby at first, wouldn't get within hand's reach. Bobby searched for missing kids in the lower forty eight states. No one reported him as missing. Took him two weeks just to Dean's first name out of him. The first time Bobby yelled at him he thought for sure the boy was going to rabbit on him. It had taken time and Bobby didn't report that the boy was with him until the spring when if Dean wanted to, he could run and at least he wouldn’t freeze. Bobby bought clothes for him. Didn't say anything just washed them up and put them in the spare bedroom where Dean slept, though half the time Dean slept curled up in the corner instead of in the bed.

Bobby heard his nightmares every night, heard his screams, heard his tears. Finally his heart just couldn't take it anymore and he went in one night and wrapped the young boy in his arms and rocked him, told him it was going to be all right, that he had a home, a safe home, that no one was going to hurt him anymore. Dean had been stiff in his arms at first and then finally caved that third night and clung to Bobby and cried his heart out. The nightmares eased up after that.

He didn't tell Dean he went to social services, took Dean's picture in, and even his fingerprints. Refused to say who he was but told them the boy's name was Dean, he had obviously been abused and he wanted to know if the boy was a runaway. It took three months before he finally relented and told Social Services everything and that he wanted to be Dean's guardian if that's what Dean wanted. He took Dean down there and he had never seen Dean look so scared except after one of his nightmares. He showed Dean the papers that he wanted to be his guardian, if that's what Dean wanted, that Social services agreed, if that's what Dean wanted. Of course Social Services popped up unannounced throughout the next year. They'd seen Dean doing chores, seen Dean put Bobby between them, seen him escape out into the junkyard, refusing to come out until Bobby finally coaxed him out. He researched the boy's history, but Dean wouldn't say much about it. He didn't like talking about himself or about his past. He took to cars and took to guns and weapons like nobody's business. Bobby wasn't about to leave him along if he was going to be gone for a few days, so he'd drag Dean along on hunts, put him up in a hotel room and initiated Dean into the world of hunting. He didn't really have a choice, but he also knew that finding an outlet for all that anger and helplessness would probably help, and it seemed to. The could fight and Dean didn't shoot for the door. The first time Dean stood up for himself, Bobby was furious, but he was also proud. Dean finally believed in himself, and believed in Bobby.

He saw the way Dean clenched the steering wheel, saw the way Dean's jaw was set and the way his face slipped into that unemotional mask he hid behind. Even after five years he knew Dean was insecure. Maybe Keiko was right. Maybe Dean just couldn't deal with a 'normal' life. He didn't know how, didn't have the tools. Social services had made him that way, it wasn't the kid's fault. Maybe Bobby was pushing too hard and that wasn't fair to Dean. Dean was nineteen. He had a right to make his own choices, his own mistakes. He would eventually alienate Sam with his attitude toward Sam's parents, but Bobby could talk 'til he was blue in the face. When that boy dug his heels in, there was no moving him.

The rest of the ride to the salvage yard was silent. Bobby didn't hug Dean often. Dean usually stiffened up at first, then relaxed and hugged Bobby back. The hugs on both their parts were brief. Just long enough not to get awkward.

When Dean turned off the car Bobby got out and came around to Dean's side as Dean got out of the car. He stared up at the young man. Even though Dean had been an ass tonight, he was still proud of the boy. He'd always be proud of the boy. His boy.

Bobby stepped up close and gave Dean a quick hug. "I won't make you go again. You gotta do what you gotta do." He released Dean and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "You ain't gotta run no laps, you ain't gotta do no target practice tonight. You do gotta get ready for the hunt, so I 'xpect you to do some training this week. Werewolves are fast and vicious. I want you sharp as a razor. I trust you to train at what ever level you feel you need to, to be ready. What say we order a pizza in a couple hours, as a late dinner. Just make sure your homework's done 'fore you go to bed."

Bobby turned and walked up the front steps. "Yer nineteen, Dean. I got no right making you do what you don't want to do. Except school. I'm not backing off on that. You're gonna graduate. No compromise on that. And don't forget, it's your weekend to do laundry."

With that Bobby went into the house. 

* * *

Dean hadn’t felt this bad in a while. But then again, he hadn’t fought like this with Bobby for a while. He didn’t dare look at the older man sitting next to him as he drove home. The young man didn’t think he could take actually seeing the disappointment on the older man’s face. Hearing it had been bad enough. The silence in the car on the remainder of the drive home was almost suffocating.

Yeah, they’d had plenty of blow ups in the past five years he’d been living with Bobby. From little things like Dean skipping out on school, not doing his chores, or getting into fights. To bigger things like when Bobby had left him in a motel room when he was fifteen and Dean had gone out and not told Bobby where he was going or when he’d be back. Not showing up again the next morning to find out Bobby had been losing his mind with worry, had even called the police, thinking something bad had happened to him.

Though by far the biggest blow up they’d ever had was when they’d been on a hunt when he was seventeen and Dean had thought he heard a scream upstairs in the haunted house they were investigating. Bobby had told him to wait, but Dean had charged in, not listening to the older and wiser hunter. When all was said and done, Dean had earned himself a nasty concussion, three broken ribs, and a broken wrist for his efforts. Bobby had told him later (after he was out of the hospital and done chewing him a new asshole) that he thought Dean was dead after the ghost had thrown him over the balcony of the stairs. The way his neck had been bent, and all the blood...

He’d never told Bobby after every single argument, every shouting match, no matter how many years he lived here, he always expected that one incident to be the straw that broke the camels back, and the older hunter was going to tell him to pack his bags. When that didn’t happen, when the next day rolled around, sometimes he would just spend five or ten minutes just sobbing in relief into his pillow so that Bobby wouldn’t hear him.

When he’d turned eighteen... even though they hadn’t argued in a while, Dean had been so fucking afraid. He’d thought for sure, this was it. He was technically an ‘adult’ now. Social services didn’t give a damn where he was, not that they’d ever really given a damn in the first place, and Bobby was going to tell him he had to leave. Bobby had done his good deed. Given him a place to stay until he ‘grew up’. Bobby didn’t need to take care of him anymore...

A week after his birthday and he was still here, Dean had finally begun to relax, maybe even believe, this really would be his home for as long as he wanted it to be. Like Bobby had told him countless times but he’d never let himself believe...

Now, because he didn’t want to play nice, make friends, whatever, with “nice and normal’ people. Now he had just reminded Bobby that he wasn’t normal. He’d never be normal. He didn’t even _want_ normal. He... liked... the life he had here now. Dean never would have imagined, after countless fights, arguments, and shouting matches... that this would bring all those doubts and fears crashing back in full force.

Dean pulled the car into the Junkyard’s driveway up to the house and shut off the engine. The silence even more oppressive now that the familiar comforting rumble was gone too. The sound of the door opening and Bobby getting out almost made him flinch, but Dean said nothing as he got out of the car as well. He was a little surprised... ok... a lot surprised when the older man came around the car and hugged him. Dean would have vehemently denied that any moisture he had to immediately blink away from his eyes was due to anything but the dust the impala had kicked up when they drove up.

The young man nodded silently to Bobby, then watched the older man go inside. At first Dean didn’t know what to do, or what to think. But finally he swallowed hard. Training. Yeah. That was nice and simple. After doing a few stretches, not really caring about changing his clothes, Dean started to run. Starting out slow but then picking up the pace until he was running like the devil was after him.

He tried to blank his mind as he ran, but after about three laps gave up. His thoughts always came back to what Bobby had said, what he and Sam had done, the thought of Sam pushing him away eventually... After about ten or fifteen laps around the junkyard (hell, he’d lost count) he finally collapsed against the chain link fence in the back. No way for Bobby to see him and cried till he thought he might choke. He still had no answers when he finally returned to the house, sweating and red faced. At least both could be blamed on his run and not his tears. 

* * *

Bobby didn't let Rumsfeld out when he came in. He wasn't sure what Dean was going to do or going to need and didn't want the dog getting in the boy's way. He figured Dean would either go work on one of his cars or do some training of some sort. Dean wouldn't leave, not right now. He was too insecure to leave. He needed his home, he needed to convince himself yet again that Bobby wasn't going to kick him out. He wasn't real surprised when he saw Dean doing laps. When he and Bobby fought, it upset Dean something fierce and he knew Dean would…get emotional…once he had some time to himself, when he was certain Bobby wouldn't hear his soft sobs or see the tears. Maybe Sam would be really good for the boy, show him what a normal life was like. Dean would never embrace a 'normal' life, but he might at least learn to deal with those who did. He really hoped Dean didn't sabotage whatever the relationship was developing between the two boys but his disdain for Sam's parents…that was going to be hard for the Colts to overcome. Package Deal, Keiko had said. Bobby certainly wouldn't mind spending more time with the Colts, he had enjoyed a day of relaxation of shooting for fun, talking vehicles, and Jim liked a wide variety of music, including some of jazz greats and swing that Bobby preferred to Dean's classic rock.  


  
He would probably invite the Colts over at some point, though he would have to make certain a lot of his more 'interesting' books were put out of sight. He knew there were rumors around town that he wasn't the holiest of men, though it didn't seem to impact his business. Hell, he dragged Dean to church about once a month. He wasn't Catholic but was friends with the priest at St. Andrews, so he often went there. Father Dillinger would work with Dean on improving his Latin after church was over. The father had tried to persuade Bobby to convert but Bobby would shake his head and just say he liked to hear the word of God now and again, and preferred the Latin to other more 'modern' churches. He was certain his attendance to St. Andrews and his friendship with the priest did a lot to put down any rumors that cropped up now and again. Dean wasn't real thrilled with the church going, but Bobby insisted, telling Dean he needed to be able to understand Latin in all its forms and where else were you going to find Latin being spoken and written? Making holy water invoked God and Dean had to have belief in the purity and goodness of some sort of heavenly being in order to do that.

Dean's first few attempts at creating holy water had been less than successful. Bobby figured Dean came to accept a belief in the ritual more than anything, which was fine, so long as he was able to create the holy water needed to fight evil. When they prayed in church, while Dean bowed his head, never had Bobby heard an 'amen' pass his lips. That was okay. He couldn't blame the young 'un for not having faith in a God that had permitted his family's death and all the terrible things that had happened to him.

When Dean came in, Bobby handed him a glass of water. He saw the flushed look to Dean's face from the work out but it didn't hide his red rimmed eyes and knew Dean had shed tears. Bobby never mentioned it, always pretended that he never saw it. Rumsfeld was at Dean's feet instantly, prancing happily.

"Ain't given his dog biscuits to him yet and he probably needs to go out. Laundry's all gathered and yer book bag's on the the table." He handed Dean a box. "This is for you."

He watched as Dean took off the lid and saw the ankle holster with the t-handled silver dagger. "Make sure it's sharp 'fore week's end," Bobby said. He rested a hand on Dean's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Now get your butt to work. I got research to do." 

* * *

Dean wasn’t all that surprised when he came inside to find Bobby waiting for him. He accepted the water the older man handed him with a nod and murmured thanks before drinking deeply from the glass. He’d pushed himself hard, for more than one reason, and he knew he was going to have to push himself harder every day until they left for the hunt. Like Bobby said, he had to be ready. He wasn’t going to let Bobby down. He might have let the older hunter down on a lot of thing, but not this.

“Ok.” Dean replied, giving the excited dog bouncing around him a good ear scratching to help calm him down until he took the mutt outside. Maybe he’d throw the ball around for Rumsfeld for a little while before he did target practice. After homework… Dean made a slight face at that when Bobby mentioned his backpack.

Though when the older man handed him the box, Dean’s eyebrows rose a bit in surprise, and he knew his jaw dropped a little when he saw the silver knife Bobby was giving him. Silver weapons, of any kind, were fucking expensive. While they were necessary, especially for fighting things like werewolves and other shape shifters, Dean was still stunned by the gift. After all, he could have easily used one of Bobby’s blades for this hunt.

Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded when the older man told him to get to work, offering Bobby a slight smile as he watched the hunter head into his office for research. Dean grabbed his book bag and the knife and dropped both off in his room. He took a quick shower and changed, then he went to put in the first load of laundry and took Rumsfeld outside.

Once the dog had done his business, Dean fed him, and then went inside to finish his school work. He checked on the laundry every once in a while he completed his assignments, normally he hated doing laundry and tried to weasel his way out of it whenever he could, but tonight he just did it without complaint. After his homework he took one of the cleaned and loaded guns and did some serious target practice. It was nearly midnight before he finally finished and went to bed.

By now Dean wasn’t all that surprised when his thoughts turned to Sam. The younger boy always on his mind lately, and Dean honestly wasn’t sure what the fuck he was doing anymore. His life had been so… uncomplicated… before he’d met Sam. Now it seemed he didn’t know what to think or feel anymore much less what he was supposed to do. It was a long time before Dean finally fell asleep, still with no answers. 

* * *

Sam helped finish cleaning up after the picnic and had asked his mom why she pretended not to know what the bow said. She just smiled and shrugged, saying she was merely curious if the family lore matched what someone actually versed in ancient Japanese translated. Sam wasn't really certain he bought it but didn't pursue it.

He didn't have homework since he hadn't been in school for a few days so he took a shower after they had a light dinner of leftovers and then he worked some more on Dean's portfolio. His mother had taken some really artsy pictures of some of the cars, doing some things like using a long exposure as the owner slowly drove the car out of the frame. She had the normal pictures too, along with close ups of hood ornaments or door handles or tires. He couldn't wait until she finished getting the rest of the pictures. With any luck, maybe he would have it done by the next weekend. If he could have it finished by Friday, he could leave it on the table when he left for the day.

When he finally crawled under the covers, he thought back to the picnic, his mind drifting continuously to the way Dean kissed him. He ran his fingers over his own lips. He'd never been kissed like that. Sure, not much experience in that department but damn, just thinking about it and he felt himself get a little hard over it. He remembered the feel of Dean's muscles as he ran his hand over his own chest, and the feel of Dean sucking on his nipples. He reached down and pulled his burgeoning erection out from under his shorts. He began to slowly jack himself off and he pictured Amanda and Stacy, or at least he tried to, but images of the handsome senior kept nudging the images of the girls out of the way. By the time his hand was pumping faster, only Dean was in his mind. He hastily grabbed a towel he had beside his bed when he felt himself getting ready to come. He thrust harder and harder into his hand, his mind replacing his touch with that of the work-callused hands of Dean. When the though of Dean sucking on his nipple flashed into his mind he groaned as he spilled his semen into the towel he had stuff down there.

Panting, he wiped the last away with the towel and laid it on the floor by his bed. He let his head fall onto the pillow, confused as hell by the feelings inside him.


	5. Chapter 5

  
Even though Dean had gone to bed very late last night he got up early to train a little before school. It helped clear his head and he felt a lot better by the time he was finished. He felt more centered, in control. He didn't like feeling so out of control, so unsure of himself, and yesterday… frankly, he would be happy to forget yesterday ever happened at all.    


  
Of course that would also mean forgetting yesterday with Sam… kissing the younger boy breathless, licking his pretty pink nipples, and jacking off onto that smooth silky skin… Dean groaned at himself. Just thinking about what he and the younger boy had done had him getting a hard on as the hot water pounded over the sore muscles of his shoulders. 

Christ. His dick was acting like he was going through puberty all over again! He couldn't get Sam out of his head! It was like he was… drawn… to the younger boy, and he wasn't even sure why. Yeah, Sam was a looker. Though to be honest he hadn't seen the younger boy yet without being bruised up. But he'd had partners, girls _and_ guys, who were just as pretty as Sam was and he didn't obsess over them like this. 

Was it because Sam was only sixteen? Jailbait. That's what Sam was. The thrill of the forbidden was always a nice aphrodisiac. Or was it the fact that Sam was a virgin. The boy knew how to kiss, but he'd never been fucked before. Had he ever had his cock sucked? Sam had gone crazy just from Dean playing with his nipples and giving him a hand job, so he didn't think so. Dean smirked as he remembered the face Sam had made when he licked their come off him, Sam had certainly never given head based on that reaction.

Just thinking about guiding the younger man to his knees, showing him how to wrap his lips around his cock and suck him off had him getting harder and harder until finally Dean gave in and jacked himself off quickly in the shower. Damn, he was regretting turning down Sam's offer to pick him up early for school this morning. But maybe after school if Bobby wasn't around… or hell… maybe during lunch. 

Dean had to cut off his imaginings of pushing Sam up against a sink in the boy's bathroom, the younger boy biting his lip to try to keep quiet as Dean sucked him off quick and messy, or he was going to get hard all over again and be late for picking up Sam. He finished his shower, quickly dried off, and got dressed. Grabbing his book bag and a couple slices of toast that Bobby had made for him for breakfast, he snagged his keys from the kitchen counter and was out the door, yelling to the older man he'd see him later.    


* * *

When Sam woke up in the morning to dreams of Dean he found he had a raging hard on. Well fuck. He hurried into the shower and barely waited for the water to get hot before he got under the water and had to beat himself off. He sighed to himself and wondered if he was maybe really gay, but dammit he liked looking at girls, or if it was just because Dean was the first person who had ever brought him off. He couldn't get the senior out of his head. He sighed again when he realized there wouldn't be any pretty girls to look at to help distract him during the day. Swell. He had a feeling today would be a day of imagining him and Dean on the pool table again or in all sorts of places at school. He wasn't sure if he wanted Deant o show up early or not. Dean said he would pick him up at eight. That would probably get them to school a little early and maybe they could make out…stop it, stop it, stop it, he told himself. This was fucking insane. He felt like a dog in heat. Worse, it was a guy he was hot over. If it was a girl, he could talk to his Dad about it maybe. But he didn't think his Dad would be thrilled to find out his son was having dreams of being jack off by the anti social deliciously handsome—stop it—senior who was looking after him.

If he had done it with Eric would he…? He shook his head to himself. No. No way in hell. Just the thought of being with Eric made him want to puke.

He didn't say much to his parents, just mostly the normal grunted morning stuff. Everyone was rushing around getting ready to go. His mom had made some coffee cake the night before and put about a third of it in a container, telling Sam to give it to Dean and Bobby and asked him to speak to Bobby about how they wanted to handle dinner. Normally Sam would eat dinner around six because his mom usually had stuff going in the crock pot, or cooked the night before so there were "leftovers" for him to eat. Sometimes he waited for his parents to get home to eat, sometimes he didn't. It wasn't Bobby's job to have another mouth to feed, but teenagers, including Sam, ate like horses. She gave him forty dollars to help with groceries since she didn't want Sam eating them out of house and home. If Bobby resisted, she told Sam to warn him she'd just drop by on the weekends with meals for Sam during the week and lots of munchies like chips and apples and crap. And she meant it. He really hoped Bobby would take the cash because he wasn't really thrilled with the idea of chowing down on frozen dinners instead of his mom's cooking or whatever Bobby and Dean were having, especially if it was Dean's hamburgers and fries.

He waved to his parents as each left in turn and finished getting his shit together, including a change of clothes for when he got to Dean's that afternoon. He'd be damned if he'd stay in that school uniform all day. Besides Dean was going to teach him how to fight and he didn't want to fight in his school clothes.

At quarter of eight he was pacing restlessly, watching out front for the black Impala. He wasn't sure if he was glad Dean didn't change his mind and show up early or not. He gave a soft snort. Just because he was obsessing over the senior didn't mean Dean even gave him a second thought.

The Impala finally pulled up at five after eight and Sam took his two backpacks (one with extra clothes), his school back pack, and the foil wrapped package of coffee cake for Dean and Bobby and hurried out to the car. He slipped into the passenger's seat and at seeing Dean, seeing those lips, those hands that had been on him, that he had dreamed about, felt a fucking blush color his cheeks. God, he just wanted to die. He tossed his extra backpack into the back seat. "Street clothes for after school," he muttered. He set the coffee cake on the floor. "Mom made coffee cake last night and sent some for you and Bobby to have for breakfast tomorrow."

Sam settled into the seat and put on his seat belt, his school books in his lap. Jesus he hoped he didn't end up with a hard on by the time they got to school. He made himself stare out the front window. Dammit, maybe if Dean had come early they could have…and he wouldn't be all tied up in knots and confused and ready to fuck the first thing that came within reach. He blushed again when he wondered if there was anyplace along the way that they could pull over and Dean could maybe kiss him and touch him and whether or not they'd be late for school if they did. If Dean drove really fast.

God he was acting like a lovesick girl.

* * *

Dean watched Sam come out of the house and approach his car. He turned down his music a little, waiting patiently for the younger boy to get in his car, and got settled. He gave the barest nod when the younger boy explained to him what the bag Sam threw into his back seat was. He frowned a little however when Sam placed the foil wrapped cake down on the floor of his car.

What the hell was that for?

Dean couldn’t help but wonder for a minute if Sam’s mother had the hots for Bobby or something. Inviting him over for the fucking BBQ, sending the older man cakes… Sure, she was married, but when the hell did that ever make a difference? He hadn’t exactly been paying much attention if the woman had been flirting with Bobby, or vice versa. What if she had? Or what if Bobby had? Did he really give a damn? Except for the fact that he didn’t like the woman? Not really. Bobby could stick his dick wherever he damn well pleased. It was none of his business…

Though, if it were true, Sam probably wouldn’t like it. Just like Sam didn’t like that Dean hated his parents. He was probably jumping to conclusions though. After all, he hadn’t seen anything, and Bobby… well, Bobby was just too damned ‘honorable’ to get involved with a married woman anyway. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to throw the damned cake away before Bobby saw it, just in case. No sense in encouraging anything that would only cause a shit storm later.

Yeah… like the fact that Dean was fucking their underage son wasn’t going to cause a shit storm if anyone found out…

It was about then that Dean noticed the flush to Sam’s cheeks and couldn’t help but grin at the younger boy. True, the flush might not be because of him, might not even be because of arousal at all. But Sam was certainly sitting there pretty damned carefully with his books in his lap. Dean forced himself to turn away from the enticing image that Sam made as he pulled away from the curb and started driving towards the school. Well, he supposed there was one way to find out if Sam would be interested in a little making out during lunch… maybe even before that…

“I thought about you this morning, in the shower. Yesterday… How you looked… How you tasted… Made me so damned hard I had to beat off.” Dean said, almost casually, glancing over at the younger boy sitting next to him. “Thought maybe, we could go somewhere alone for lunch.”

* * *

Sam glanced over at Dean, embarrassed and surprised. Dean had thought about him? Was he…obsessing over him the way Sam seemed to be over the senior? For as casually as he said it…no probably not. Probably just trying to tell Sam he liked it and wanted to do it again.

"I…uh…I'm glad you…you know. Enjoyed it," he said. Oh how lame was that? He just couldn't bring himself to admit he'd beat off not once, but twice, to thoughts of Dean, that he'd even dreamed of him.

"Was kinda hoping you might…come early this morning," Sam quietly. He managed a small smile, "But I guess you did, didn't you?" He blushed a little at his joke. Dammit, couldn't he stop blushing for one fucking minute?

"There's that empty warehouse not far from school," Sam ventured quietly. "Off Neilsen Street. It's on the way to school. I can point it out to you…if you want…."

The thought of returning to school already had him completely tied up in knots. The thought of maybe having Dean kissing the daylights out of him before going there was attractive. Hell the thought of Dean bringing him off before school, yeah, that would probably help ease the clenching in his stomach, too. He was so not looking forward to the day. He was so tense his muscles might as well be steel. 

* * *

The expression on Sam's face after his bold statement was absolutely priceless. Not to mention the increased flush to the younger boy's face, spreading down his neck, was making him think very sinful thoughts. Like how he wanted to lick across those pretty blushing lips, teasing out and sucking on Sam's tongue making the younger boy whimper and clutch at him like he had yesterday. He wondered if Sam were blushing _everywhere_. Just thinking about finding out was definitely making his dick sit up and take notice.

Oh yeah. He'd definitely enjoyed it.

Dean was really wishing he'd come to pick Sam up early too, but after yesterday... he simply hadn't been sure of the younger boy's offer. Sam's joke made Dean laugh out loud, and he glanced at the younger boy, grinning at him in a way that could melt butter.

"I guess I did." He replied.

When Sam mentioned the old warehouse _on the way_ to school he'd pretty much made his decision, stepping a little harder on the gas. Though honestly, if they were a little late to school this morning, Dean didn't really give a shit.

"I know the way there." Dean told the younger boy, even as he let one of his hands slip off the steering wheel to curl around Sam's inner thigh, giving it a light squeeze. No reason why they couldn't start now, after all.

"Did you enjoy it?" He asked curiously, caressing the younger boy's thigh upwards to his groin, cupping Sam's dick gently through his pants.

* * *

Dean's smile, his laugh, the look in his eyes, it all just made Sam quiver. He'd have never thought he could imagine another guy as so handsome, so fucking hot but the look Dean gave him made his stomach positively do flip flops. He felt Dean hit the accelerator and his heart jumped in speed. He really didn’t care if he missed home room. That was little more than taking attendance and they'd figure out soon enough Sam was there. They could call his parents if they wanted, but they would probably just initially assume Sam wasn't ready to return to school yet. Which he wasn't.

He jumped a little when he Dean's hand slid to his thigh. He let his books shift to the side and groaned when Dean's hand found his groin and and gently palmed his cock. The response was almost immediate as he felt his blood rush southward.

"Yeah…I…liked it," Sam said. Moving his hand down, he laid it over Dean's and pressed Dean's hand harder against his cock. "Couldn't…couldn't stop thinking about you," Sam finally admitted. "Twice," he whispered.

He took his hand off of Dean's hand, undid his seat belt, and reached over, returning the favor for Dean, finding and gently rubbing along his shaft.

* * *

Dean could easily feel the heat of the younger boy’s dick beneath his palm. How it twitched and firmed in response to his touch. But something about Sam’s soft admission and the way the younger boy’s hand covered his own, pressing down, seeking more pleasure… it was so damned hot Dean had to bite back his own groan as heat flowed through his veins like he couldn’t believe.

“Only twice? I must be losing my touch.” Dean joked, curling his fingers underneath the younger boy’s balls as he pressed and rubbed his palm more firmly against the outline of Sam’s cock.

He forced himself to keep his attention mostly on the road, even though he really wanted to watch what Sam was doing when he heard the seat belt unbuckle. He groaned softly when he felt Sam’s hand reach over the seat and slip between his legs to caress his dick.

Dean realized this was the first time that Sam had actually touched him. Sure, they’d dry humped against each other while they kissed in the basement, but this was the first time Sam had actually touched his cock. Encouraging, Dean let his legs slide further apart to give the younger boy better access.

Fuck, he was glad that the drive to the warehouse was a short one. He knew exactly where Sam was talking about, because he and Bobby made it a point to know where any ‘abandoned’ structure was around here. Considering a vast majority of ghosts and other beasties seemed to enjoy frequenting such places.

It was with no small amount of regret he was forced to take his hand back so he could make the turn onto Neilsen street, by that point not really trusting himself to do it one handed. But it was better that then get into an accident because he was too distracted by Sam’s hand on his dick. Dean pulled into the warehouse a bit faster than he intended as it was, and drove them back far enough that the car couldn’t be seen from the street. He wasted no time then shutting off the engine and unbuckling his own seatbelt, turning a little to face Sam. 

* * *

It was all Sam could do not to thrust back against Dean's touch. He could believe Dean could get someone to come more than twice just thinking about him but it had only been like twelve hours and a good portion of that he'd been asleep.

Running his hand along Dean's dick, it felt large. He'd seen it, sort of, the night before but he'd been a bit distracted. He'd never felt another guy up before and couldn't really decide if it turned him on or not. Because it was forbidden, well, among a lot of the people anyhow, that was kind of exciting. When Dean splayed his legs open, oh shit, yeah, the excitement factor went up more as his blood rushed south. Maybe because it was a definite invitation for Sam to investigate and explore. He remembered the first time Stacy had opened her legs for his exploring fingers. Talk about a turn on.

Giving a small muffled complaint when Dean's hand left him, he was suddenly trying to not get thrown into the door as Dean made the turn. Guess Dean was definitely wanting this. Suddenly they were parked, the engine was off and Dean was facing him.

Memories of being in the red Ferrari, the gear shift, the steering wheel, Eric invading his mouth, his hands down his pant, it all came rushing back to Sam. He leaned a away from Dean.

"Can we maybe…back seat? Eric…it was…I'd rather be in the back seat," Sam said stumbling over his words, trying to explain and not sure Dean would get it. He wanted to kiss Dean again, and his cock definitely wanted some more attention from Dean, but not in the front seat. It didn't matter the car was black, or that there wasn't a gear shift, or that he didn't smell Eric's expensive cologne. He just suddenly couldn't do it in the front seat. Dean was probably going to think he was stupid whiny tease, but if Dean wouldn't, he wasn't sure he wouldn't just freak and bail, and he really didn't want to do that. It had been his suggestion, more or less, in the first place.

* * *

Dean’s smile immediately slipped off his face, arousal replaced by confusion… even worry… when he saw the younger boy’s expression as Sam’s hand suddenly left him. The way the other boy backed away from him, Sam looking like he was going to bolt out of the passenger side door any second. Much like the first time Dean had brought Sam home. Sam looked afraid of him…

He didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Sam was already explaining, more or less. Really, the younger boy only had to say one word. Eric. Understanding dawned and Dean was having a difficult time not allowing his expression to cloud over with anger. Some of that anger at the other senior certainly, but also at himself because he was an idiot. Sam had _told_ him after all how the other boy had tried to rape him in his car, and he didn’t even consider making out in the car might give Sam some bad memories? Too busy thinking with his damned dick…

Sam’s fearful expression made his guts twist. It made him just want to pull the younger boy close and… hold him… until all of Sam’s tension melted away against him. It also made him want to go find Eric right the fuck now and pound his face in the same way he’d pounded his car. Lets see him try to work his fucking ‘charm’ on some innocent boy with two broken cheekbones, a dislocated jaw, and broken nose…

“Back seat is fine.” Dean finally replied. “But we don’t have to do this at all, here, if you don’t want…”

* * *

Sam could see Dean was upset, but the tenderness in Dean's eyes told him immediately it wasn't against him or because of him.

Shaking his head, Sam said, "No. Back seat's good. Really. Front seat…maybe later. I guess I'm kinda lame, huh?" Sam smiled a little bit shyly then. "I, uh, you're a really good kisser. Better than any girl I've ever kissed." Sam winced slightly. What if Dean was not bi but just gay? Would that offend him? It was the truth though. He'd never had anyone kiss him like Dean. Then again he only had two girls to compare him to. Well there were a couple others, but they hadn't frenched much so it wasn't really fair to include them.

Sam opened the car door and set his book bag on the floor. When he got in the back seat he tossed the bag with his street clothes up front. He shut the door and looked around a little, making sure he wasn't going to freak. No, this was different, different enough anyhow. He'd be okay. This felt more like his decision. Even if Dean crushed him up against the door it just didn't feel like it did in the front seat. He pulled off his coat and laid it over the back of the front seat and then wasn't really sure what he should do. Should he take off his shirt too? His shirt hadn't stopped Dean before, though. He wondered again if it was really messed up that he wanted Dean to kiss him.

* * *

Dean shook his head slightly when Sam called himself ‘lame’. He knew completely what the younger boy was going through. The fact that Sam was even letting Dean _touch_ him at all was something of a surprise in itself. When the younger boy admitted he liked how Dean kissed, the older boy couldn’t help but smile. Better than any girl, huh? He might have to get the younger boy to tell him a little about that… later, Dean reminded himself.

They were on a bit of a tight schedule here.

When Sam opened his door, Dean did the same. He got out, waiting for Sam to climb into the back seat and get settled before he did the same. The younger boy looked comfortable enough, which was good, and Dean certainly wasn’t complaining at all about doing this in the back seat versus the front. After all, he knew from experience it was more comfortable in the back than the front. More room to work with…

Tight schedule, Dean reminded himself again and scooted closer to the younger boy.

“C’mere.” Dean whispered softly, sliding his hand around Sam’s waist and pulling the younger boy closer to him. His other hand cupping Sam’s cheek and tipping the younger boy’s face up to him as he brought his lips down to meet Sam’s. 

* * *

Sam watched as the senior settled into the back seat. He'd never really considered than a man could be graceful, but Dean was. Like a cat type of graceful. Every move considered, every shift of weight recognized. Sam felt all gangly and uncoordinated around him by comparison. Sam waited for guidance from his sponsor. He was still nervous and wondered if that would ever go away. The flashback to Eric's front seat hadn't really helped.

He let Dean pull him close and again marveled at how gentle and how strong the young man was. He suddenly realized that after this, he was going to have to go face those bastards at that school again. But with Dean's arm wrapped around his waist it wasn't quite so frightening. A little part of him wondered if he could convince Dean to just skip school today. He'd do whatever…well, almost whatever…Dean wanted if he just didn't have to go to school.

As Dean tilted his face up, Sam was so close to those green eyes. There was so much he saw in them it almost took his breath away. Kindness, coldness, hardship, determination, fear, ferocity, loss, courage…it was everything wrapped up in a moment. He wondered what Dean saw in his. Hell, what did Dean see in him? Why had he come to Sam's rescue? He knew in his heart it wasn't because Dean thought he'd be a good lay. Not in the beginning.

And then Dean was kissing him.

He wrapped his arms around Dean. He wanted to learn to kiss like Dean because breath taking hardly covered it. The way the young man's tongue dove into his mouth, lightly tangling with his tongue, stroking it, and then slowly investigating his mouth like it was the first time his tongue had been there, almost like it was the first time his tongue had ever been in anyone's mouth. It made Sam feel almost special, even though it was obvious Dean had a lot of experience kissing and Sam's mouth was hardly the first mouth that tongue had invaded. That tongue had probably been places…no, he didn't want to think about that. He just wanted to slip into the moment a believe he was as special to Dean as the kiss made him feel he was.

* * *

Dean made a sound of approval when he felt Sam’s arms wrap around him. Holding the younger boy a little tighter too him as he brushed those soft sweet lips with his own, caressing with gentle butterfly light touches, and soft licks before finally letting his tongue push past Sam’s parted lips. He immediately lost himself in the sweet taste of the younger boy as he explored Sam’s mouth as thoroughly as he had the first time. Running the tip of his own tongue lightly over Sam’s teeth and the roof of his mouth and coaxing the younger boy’s soft wet tongue to play with his own.

Unlike the first time when they’d been in Sam’s basement, Dean didn’t really care about the consequences of how the younger boy might look when he nipped lightly and sucked on those soft pink lips. Making them even more pink and full and sensitive. In fact the thought of Sam walking into that school at his side with red kiss swollen lips, everyone who’d look at the younger boy knowing who Sam belonged to, made his heart beat a little faster.

His fingers slid down Sam’s neck, dipping into the collar of the younger boy’s shirt. When he found the first button he undid it with a quick flick of his wrist. His fingers immediately reaching in further to caress the newly revealed skin as he moved to the next button, and the next, working his way down until Sam’s shirt hung completely open.

He ran the flat of his palm from Sam’s stomach back up to the younger boy’s chest. Panting a little as he pulled back from their kiss to watch the younger boy’s reaction when his fingers found Sam’s sensitive nipple and started playing with it. 

* * *

It was odd, feeling Dean paying as much attention to his lips with his sucking and nips, as he did the rest of his mouth. Not odd in a bad way, just unexpected. And the sucking was still definitely a turn on. Then Dean's hand was at his collar and running his fingers over his skin. Effortlessly Dean flicked each button through its hole; Sam thought he took longer getting each one buttoned than Dean did flicking them open.

Dean's hand was warm as it caressed his skin, ran over his stomach and headed back up his chest. When Dean broke their kiss, Sam made a small sound of complaint even though he was beginning to pant with the excitement of Dean's kisses. He realized where Dean's hand was headed. When Dean's fingers brushed over his nipple he gasped a little. His eyes half shut and he gave a soft moan as Dean toyed with it. He never would have guessed nipples on guys were just as sensitive as girls.

Since Dean didn't have his suit coat on yet, Sam ran his hand over Dean's nipple through the shirt. He managed to get the first couple buttons of Dean's shirt undone one-handed though with a lot less skill. Dean's attention to his nipple didn't help as far as distractions went. Still it was enough that he could reach inside and give Dean the same pleasure.

Dean's attention to his nipple grew more intense and Sam couldn't help but arch into it a little. It felt so fucking good and his dick was certainly beginning to get hard between the kissing and the playing with his chest. The things Dean could do to him without hardly trying… 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but watch in fascination the way Sam reacted to his touch. The sweet needy moans that the younger boy made. The way Sam trembled and arched into his touch when he lightly pinched the sensitive nub on his chest. So damned sensitive… As he switched from one tight peak to the other, loving the way Sam’s nipples grew pink and hard to the stimulation. The resulting rising bulge he could see in Sam’s pants, Dean literally felt his mouth water.

When he felt the younger boy’s fingers working at his shirt and then slip inside, touching his chest, mirroring the pleasure he was giving to Sam, Dean moaned in approval. Pressing his lips to Sam’s and licking his way back into the younger boy’s mouth, twining their tongues together and kissing him even more deeply than before as his passion rose. He wondered, would Sam copy everything that he did? Fuck, he hoped so. Only one way to find out.

He reluctantly left off playing with Sam’s nipples to push the younger boy’s shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.

“Don’t want you making a mess of yourself again.” Dean murmured in explanation, his eyes tracing hungrily over Sam’s exposed chest on down. He tossed Sam’s shirt over the back of the front seat to join the other boy’s jacket and then quickly removed his own, tossing it wherever. His hands went to Sam’s waist then, unbuckling his belt and undoing the younger boy’s fly and zipper.

“Lift up.” He encouraged as his fingers hooked in the waistband of Sam’s pants and underwear, tugging them down to about the younger boy’s mid thighs. Dean moaned softly getting his first look at Sam practically naked for the first time. Fuck, Sam was so beautiful. His cock hard and full, and Dean wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly. 

* * *

When Dean began kissing him again, this time deeper and more intently, it sent shivers of desire through him that he would barely comprehend. How could he be getting this damned hot over a guy? The sudden absence of Dean's fingers on his chest was almost painful and Sam wondered if that was it. Were they done making out? Then he felt his shirt fall off his shoulders and Dean's explanation sent fresh heat to his groin. Dean was going to jack him off again? Oh, hell yeah.

He stared at Dean's naked chest when Dean carelessly tossed his own shirt aside. His breath caught a little. He had run his hands over those muscles before but he hadn't seen them. Damn, the senior was built, pure muscle and for the first time ever, when he saw Dean's nipples he found them attractive and enticing. He wanted to do what Dean had done the night before. He wanted to touch them and suck on them and see how crazy he could drive the older teen. The scars he saw there, Jesus, what sorts of things had Dean been through to have those scars? No wonder he didn't let anyone fuck with him. He'd apparently been there and done that.

Before Sam had a chance to react, to move forward and lick and suck at Dean's nipples, Dean's hands were at his pants. He felt a little embarrassed and weirded out to have the older boy undoing his belt and zipper and he couldn't help but feel a little flash of what Eric had tried to do pass through him. Still, he did as Dean told him, but felt so exposed. Hell, he was exposed, practically naked in the back seat of Dean's car. His erection was approaching full blown at this point and he would have been embarrassed beyond embarrassed if not for the way Dean groaned and looked at him. The way Dean looked at him, like he was hot as hell, made his cock twitch that much more. No, Eric had wanted to force him. Dean was just…excited.

When Dean's hand curled around his shaft Sam moaned. He wanted to make Dean feel good too, but…no, he wasn't ready to touch Dean like that yet. He just wasn't comfortable with that idea. Would rubbing Dean through his jeans, would that be too teasing?

His eyes went back to Dean's nipples. He could do that. He even wanted to do that. But what if Dean made him come and Dean was still dressed? Dean would be the one that was the mess. He was so confused by what he should do, what he wanted to do, and what he wasn't ready to do yet.

The way Dean looked at him and stroked him was making it hard to think. Reluctantly. Sam rested his hand over Dean's, stilling the movement along his cock.

"I can't…I can't do this for you. But I don't want to get you…uh, caught in the spray. I want…I want to suck on you, your, uh chest, like you did me. And I…I think I'd like to maybe, well," he blushed, "you know, rub you through your pants. But I can't," he shook his head. "I can't do more. Is that…is that okay? I'll try to get comfortable with the idea, I will, I promise. I'm just …just not yet." He looked at Dean both hopeful and maybe a little scared. What if Dean said no? What if Dean demanded he did it in exchange for his protection? He just needed time. He was sure he'd get there. He never expected to want to touch another guy's nipples or a guy's dick through his jeans. But wrong or right, he did. Maybe it was just Eric's words that kept coming back to him. Cock slut. He didn't want to be that. He never wanted to be that. He tried to forget he was slutting himself out to Dean for his protection, but he was beginning not to mind that, not at all. And so far he'd pretty much been on the receiving end of pleasure, something that wouldn't have happened with Eric, he was sure. But Eric thought with his wallet as readily as his dick and Sam had definitely been given a lot of financial attention. But it wasn't the same, he insisted. Not at all. He wondered suddenly if he said 'no,' if Dean would still sponsor him?

It was moot he decided because at this point, he wasn't ready to give up those kisses and those lips and that tongue. He hoped Dean said it was okay. He really did, because he really really wanted to suck on Dean's nipples. Oh yeah. Definitely fucked up. But he didn't care as he licked his lips and his gaze drifted down to Dean's chest.

* * *

When Sam’s hand covered his own, this time to stop him rather than encourage him, Dean froze and confusion mixed with worry flickered in his eyes as he caught the younger boy’s. What was wrong? Had he gone too fast? Dean wanted to kick himself a little. Thinking too much with his god damned dick again. It always got him into trouble.

Dean couldn’t deny as Sam explained to him what he was, and wasn’t, ready for that he was a little disappointed. He had really wanted to feel the younger boy’s fingers wrapped around him this time, touching him, bringing him off. But he certainly wasn’t going to force Sam to do anything he wasn’t ready for.

He couldn’t help but grin a little when Sam mentioned him getting ‘caught in the spray’, the younger boy could come like a fountain. But then again, so had Dean last time, when he’d jacked himself onto the younger boy’s stomach.

This was going to be more complicated than he thought. Dean didn’t really mind if all Sam wanted to do was rub his cock through his pants, in fact, the idea of the other boy doing that while sucking on his nipples was making his dick throb a little in impatience. On the other hand, Dean really didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with come drying in his pants.

Looking into the younger boy’s eyes, so damned unsure and hopeful at the same time, Sam suddenly looked so damned _young_. Dean smiled tenderly at him, cupping the younger boy’s cheek and bringing their mouths together in a slow easy kiss he hoped would wipe whatever uncertainty Sam felt from his mind.

“Of course, its ok. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, Sam.” Dean reassured softly, giving the younger boy’s dick a gentle squeeze but he didn’t start stroking him again yet.

“How about this... I’ll suck you off first and you can come in my mouth. Then you can touch me however you like, but I’ll finish by jacking off outside... you can watch if you want. That way we don’t have to worry about clean up.” The young man suggested, lifting an eyebrow, waiting for Sam’s reply. It sounded like a pretty good plan to him. 

* * *

Sam saw a range of emotions pass over Dean's face, including the hint of disappointment as he told him he just couldn't do it. But then the tenderest of smiles spread across Dean's face and he kissed Sam so gently, so lovingly it almost broke Sam's heart that he couldn't give Dean what he wanted.

Didn't have to do anything he said. He could have said no from the start and Dean would have still…he was almost embarrassed that he was glad he didn't know that. He never would have discovered the way Dean kissed, the sensitivity of his own nipples, the feel of Dean's skin under his touch, and the feel of someone else, of Dean, jacking him off. Then, really, he wasn't slutting himself out. Not if he could say no. It was his choice. Dean wasn't so much his sponsor as his…boyfriend? Okay that was just weird beyond weird. Sam never would have ever thought he'd have a boyfriend. Okay, so maybe the truth was somewhere in between. Dean was sponsoring him with the hopes of sexual favors, but…hell, that was kind of like any guy going out on a date. You take a girl out and hope that maybe she'll put out.

Dean was offering him a blow job? And to…ew…come in his mouth? Sam didn't think it would be 'ew' for him, but then, Dean had sampled their mixed come the night before and liked it. Maybe…maybe he'd have to think about at least…well, tasting it? It sounded kind of gross, but girls did it. He'd always heard the best blows were by the girls who swallowed. The thought of his dick in Dean's mouth…he wasn't quite certain, that was kinda strange. Those gentle tender kissing lips wrapped around his cock instead of the warm touch of Dean's fingers and hand. So what, he was going to turn down his first blow job because it was coming from a guy? And then he'd get to do what he wanted, play with Dean's nipples, hear him groan, make him squirm and feel him up. He wasn't really sure he would like feeling Dean up but he wanted to try.

If Dean wanted to blow him…did that make Dean a cock slut? No, he wasn't going to ask that. Maybe…maybe it didn't really mean what Eric implied. Was it really any different than giving fellagio to a girl? No. Eric was just being a hateful bastard.

"I've never had a blow job," Sam said quietly, "or seen another guy jack himself off." He nodded then. "Yeah, yeah that sounds good to me. I'm game."

He gently touched Dean's face. "Thank you. For not being mad. For not pushing. I've never even been with a girl so this is all…new." He pulled Dean into a light kiss, then smiled at him as he dropped his hand onto Dean's and encouraged him to do whatever he wanted to do however he wanted to do it. 

* * *

As Dean watched Sam’s face… waiting for the younger boy to respond to his offer… he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. Someone else might have gotten impatient, but Dean couldn’t help but find it amusing that _anyone_ had to think so hard on whether or not they wanted a blow job.

When Sam finally admitted that he’d never had one, Dean gave a slight nod. The younger boy had made hints about his experience, or lack thereof, but he still hadn’t known for sure. Sam had said he was a virgin, but that could mean a lot of things, and the younger boy knew how to kiss.

When Sam had said he was a virgin, he also could have just meant, as far as being with another guy. Dean had guessed, from the way Sam had reacted yesterday, that he’d never had a hand job, but he hadn’t been sure. So now he knew, it seemed like kissing, and maybe some petting, was the full extent of Sam’s experience. No hand jobs, no blow jobs, and never even with a woman?

Hmm… maybe they would have to remedy all of those things. The idea of sharing a woman with Sam was definitely a turn on. Showing the younger boy how to make love to a woman, letting Sam watch him, and then watching Sam… oh yeah… and hell, maybe if Sam saw him ‘in action’ so to speak, he’d be less nervous if they decided to go further.

Dean returned the soft kiss that Sam gave him, slowly deepening it, and letting his hand slide along the younger boy’s shaft once again at the encouragement. Oh yeah, they were definitely going to be late today. Because there was no way he was going to rush this. Did he give a shit? Not really.

He continued to stroke Sam’s dick in long lazy motions, as he broke the kiss to work his lips down over the younger boy’s jaw and throat. Trailing his tongue down along Sam’s collar bone and licking his way over the younger boy’s chest. He paused briefly to lick and suck on one of those sensitive hard nipples and then the other, then continued down.

Dean shifted in the seat so he could reach the younger boy’s lap, staring at Sam’s hard dick as his fingers coaxed a drop of precome to leak from the tip of his cock. With a moan, Dean licked away the drop greedily, letting his tongue play around the crown and slit. Swirling around and tickling underneath the sensitive head. His hand continuing to stroke up and down as he finally wrapped his lips around the head of Sam’s cock, sucking and stroking with his tongue. His fingers moving down to cup and play with the younger boy’s balls as Dean took Sam’s length entirely into his mouth with a groan of pleasure. 

* * *

He was glad when Dean returned his kiss. He didn’t really think Dean was suddenly going to renege on his offer but he was in such unknown territory. He realized being sponsored sort of threw you into a full blown sexual relationship before you hardly had your first 'date.' He had 'gone out' with Eric for weeks and never suspected the spiteful cruel bastard underneath that smooth talk, and in his brief period of time with Dean, he never expected so much gentleness. Life was weird.

He moaned into Dean's mouth when Dean began stroking him again, when Dean put that little extra bit of pressure on the down stroke. The slow strokes were sweet torture as was the feel of Dean's mouth as it began to work its way down his neck and chest and when Dean reached his nipples, Sam moaned louder. That felt so amazingly good and he was disappointed Dean didn't give them more attention before moving lower.

He watched as Dean locked at his hard erect cock almost hungrily. A small little tremor shook him and he knew his cock was leaking. Suddenly he felt the moist heat and light pressure of Dean's tongue running across his tip then the pressure of Dean's tongue sliding into his slit and dance around the crown. He was moaning loudly at this point, one of his hands automatically going to Dean's head and combing through those dark locks. When Dean's lips closed around his dick, Sam thought he was going to lose it then and there. He gasped as Dean sucked on him and he felt the way Dean's tongue rolled around his shaft almost petting and stroking all by itself. Dean's touch on his balls practically had him bucking up and to have Dean's mouth taking him in in one fell swoop made his eyes all but roll back in his head.

"Oh, fuck," Sam gasped, unintentionally tightening his fingers in Dean's hair. "God, Dean, yes," he moaned. Nothing had prepared him for the reality of his cock enclosed in sweet hot, moist velvet, and feeling those lips so recently kissing him wrapped around his cock. Holy shit. He had imagined a blow job lots of times but they were like a five year old's scribble of crayon next to a Monet.

Looking down to see Dean between his legs, to actually see his cock buried in Dean's mouth drove an unexpected spike of arousal through him. "So hot, so fucking hot," Sam said in awe, and was pretty damned amazed he had any coherent thoughts at all at the moment considering he didn't think any bit of blood was reaching his brain. At least, not the upstairs brain.

* * *

If his mouth weren’t already busy Dean would have smiled. Definitely pleased with himself at the feeling of Sam’s fingers curling into his hair, not to mention the curses spilling quite fluently from the ‘innocent’ younger boy. Instead he hummed around the firm erection in his mouth, hoping to make Sam make more of those sweet pleasured gasps and moans.

Dean tightened his lips letting them slide smoothly up and down the length of Sam’s hard leaking shaft. Sucking lightly at first, not wanting to bring the younger boy off so soon, but gradually increasing the pressure. Letting his tongue flick and swirl around the head, licking away the freely dripping precome from the sensitive slit.

His fingers continued to gently caress the younger boy’s balls, rolling and squeezing them gently. Drifting a little bit behind to tenderly rub the sensitive strip of skin leading to Sam’s hole. He would have loved to let his fingers slip back even further, to play with the younger boy’s hole while he brought Sam off. But unfortunately right now he knew that would probably be too much for Sam to handle.

Dean didn’t want to do anything that might spook the younger boy. He wanted Sam to let him do this again, after all, and he wanted Sam to want more. He couldn’t push too hard too fast. No matter how much he wanted to play with that tight puckered hole, to feel Sam’s heat from the inside, and to feel those tight muscles clenching around his fingers as he came.

So instead he concentrated on giving Sam the best god damned blowjob he’d ever receive. Deep throating the younger boy as he worked him faster and harder. Swallowing and moaning around Sam’s cock, and sucking so hard on the thick hard shaft that his cheeks hollowed. 

* * *

He felt it before it pierced his hearing, that deep vibration around his cock and the hum that accompanied it. Sam's free hand gripped the seat and thought pretty much left him as the waves of pleasure crashed through him.

"Jesus…Holy fuck…Oh, God…" spilled from Sam in between his groans as Dean worked expertly on his member. The sweeping lips, the swiping tongue, the gentle rolling pressure on his balls as Dean sucked and hummed. Sam practically saw stars as the older boy continued to work him. The way his cock slid deeply into Dean's mouth felt unbelievably good and Sam didn't really know what was spilling from his mouth this point, groans of pleasure or coherent words begging Dean to continue, to fuck him, to let him come, to never let him come. Hell, somebody could have probably asked for his soul at this point and he would have given it away so long as this excruciating pleasure continued. Dean's bobbing head finally became too much when accompanied by the sucking and humming and everything.

Sam began to thrust up into the mouth in jerky, barely controlled movements. He couldn't see, he couldn’t think. All he could do was feel the pressure building inside him as he felt himself just simply come undone, pumping harder and faster into the senior's mouth. He didn't want it to be over, but he felt his balls tightening. He couldn't give Dean warning beyond the 'oh, god, oh god, oh god' that spilled from his lips louder and louder until he let loose with a loud groan, burying his cock deeply in Dean's unbelievable mouth and felt his spunk pour from him. The waves of pleasure shook him to his core and he trembled as he shot more spunk down Dean's throat, moaning in sheer ecstasy.

* * *

Christ.

Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever been with anyone who was so damned responsive, so damned willing and eager. Sam’s cries and moans to what Dean was doing were making his own cock throb. He was so fucking hard in his pants he was beginning to leak, and despite his earlier wishes he might just come inside of his pants without Sam even touching him.

When the younger boy began to buck up into his mouth, Dean relaxed his throat to let Sam thrust between his lips. He felt the younger boy’s balls tightening as he palmed them in his hand, heard the desperation in Sam’s cries increase, and Dean knew that he was close. He worked the younger boy’s cock even harder and took Sam as deep as he could. He tightened his lips, refusing to let a single drop escape, when Sam finally groaned loud and exploded in his mouth.

Dean swallowed down every burst of seed as Sam pulsed over and over, determined to milk the younger boy dry. He didn’t stop sucking until he was certain that Sam had given him everything he could, finally letting the younger boy slip from his lips when his cock began to grow soft.

Panting a little, Dean sat up. Wrapping his arms around Sam and tugging the younger boy’s practically naked body close to him.

“That was fucking amazing.” Dean whispered, brushing his mouth against Sam’s. 

* * *

Sam was panting so hard he was near gasping and a light sheen of sweat coated him as Dean pulled more from him than he thought he could possibly have in him. Dean's lips were firm around his cock and if even a drop of his semen slipped out he'd be shocked. The incredible feelings continued to wash through him and shook his body in small tremors. He let out with a final gasp when the older boy's mouth finally released his softening member. Dean looked a little flushed and Sam knew he had to look twice as flushed as his sponsor. He didn't complain or try to fight it as Dean pulled him into an embrace.

That was amazing for Dean? When Dean's lips brushed over his he looped his arm around the young man's neck and kissed him, his tongue swiping at Dean's lips begging for entrance. He didn't care that mouth had just sucked him off. As soon Dean's lips parted Sam's tongue was inside and tangling with Dean's. How did you say 'thank you' to having just been giving your first blow job? Kissing Dean hard and enthusiastically was the only thing he thought might come close to expressing it. He wrapped his other arm around Dean's back and pulled them tight against one another as he ran his tongue around inside Dean's mouth. The new salty taste that was there he knew had to be what his seed tasted like. It wasn't nasty and gross like he thought it surely must be but it was different and like nothing else he had ever really tasted.

When he finally had to take a breath, he broke their kiss. "That was more than just amazing," Sam said in awe. "I never knew…Jesus."

He ran his fingers down along Dean's temple to his cheek to rub his fingers lightly across Dean's lips. "I never…I never thought I'd think a guy was beaut—uh, really hot. Your eyes…I know it's probably lame, but your green eyes are just so…fuck," he said and felt a little blush color his cheeks, but didn't figure it would show through the flushed appearance he knew he probably had. "Beautiful is the only word that keeps coming up, but that's just…so chick-flick or cheesy or something. I never expected to see the things in your eyes I see, not when I first met you." He laughed softly if a bit self-consciously. "But I never expected to end up naked in your backseat getting the most amazing blow job ever from you either. It's been one really really weird week."

He ran his fingers across his tongue to wet them and then began rubbing around one of Dean's nipple with those same fingers, his gaze locked on the senior's face. "I don't think I can even come close to giving you what you just gave me but, maybe, you know, eventually I can." He began kissing his way from Dean's lips to his chin, to his neck, just like Dean had done for him, until he reached the nipple his fingers weren't at and swept his tongue over it then began swirling his tongue around it.

* * *

  
Dean was a little surprised when he felt the younger boy's tongue brush along his lips, seeking entrance to his mouth. Considering the disgusted face Sam had made only yesterday as he'd watched Dean lick the come from the younger boy's body. But he certainly wasn't about to complain or refuse that sweet tongue entrance, his lips parting easily to allow Sam inside. A deep approving moan slipping from his mouth into the younger boy's as Sam kissed and clung to him. 

Either Sam had completely gotten over his disgust over tasting come, or Dean had melted the younger boy's brain enough with that blow job that Sam simply didn't care. He was pleased by the first idea, and very pleased by the second. Then Dean didn't really care what the reason was, as he twined his tongue with the younger boy's, feeling himself getting even harder, if it was possible with every movement of that hot eager tongue in his mouth. Just knowing that Sam was tasting himself in his mouth and practically devouring him…

He panted more than a little when their lips parted and couldn't help but grin at Sam's words and the look the younger boy was giving him. Like he was in awe. Beautiful huh? Apparently Sammy got really girly when he came his brains out, not that Dean really minded at the moment. Especially when the younger boy blushed adorably. Though he couldn't help but wonder… what the hell Sam 'saw' in his eyes… He probably didn't want to know. 

"Weird huh? Don't think anyone has ever called one of my blowjob's that before." Dean joked lightly to keep himself from feeling awkward. Though he watched with rapt interest as Sam licked his fingers and moaned when those fingers then moved to his chest to play over one of his nipples. A part of him wanted to reassure the younger boy that he didn't have to 'repay' him in kind, now or later, but Dean couldn't deny that he _wanted_ Sam to. He wanted to feel Sam's hands on him, eventually the younger boy's mouth on him, to fuck that beautiful lithe body. 

So he didn't say anything, his fingers tangling in Sam's hair as the younger boy kissed his way down his body. Dean's breath hitching, his heart beating harder when that sweet tongue found one of the hard sensitive peaks on his chest. 

"Fuck Sam… yes…" Dean breathed. Sweeping his hands down the younger boy's back to his flanks. Wanting, needing, him closer Dean grasped the Sam's hips and tugged the other boy to settle onto his lap. "Keep going… that's good…"   


* * *

Sam remembered Eric's fingers in his hair, but Dean's touch was soothing, almost loving. He heard Dean's breath catch and was determined to hear that again and to hear Dean moan again. He doubted he would ever be able to extract the sorts of words that had spilled from him, but he'd give Dean as much pleasure as he could. And he really wanted to make Dean squirm like Dean had made him squirm. A vengeance of a sort, but not in a bad way. Maybe he just needed to prove to himself, and maybe even to the senior, that he was not inept at making out.

Blow job. The blow job probably crossed the line of making out into having sex. More or less.

When Dean's hands ran down his sides he began sucking now and again at Dean's nipple while pinching and twisting the other. He was a little surprised when Dean pulled him into his lap. He was practically naked sitting there and Dean still had his pants on and…yeah he was kinda really glad the older boy still had his pants on. He could definitely tell the senior was hard as hell. And he had done that to Dean. That idea sent a little shiver of delight through him. It was kind of odd to think that he was making another guy hard, but he had certainly twisted up Eric's balls that way too. He wasn't effeminate…was he? God he hoped not. Even if it turned out he was gay—but really, he did like girls so he guessed he was bi—he didn't want to be effeminate.

Forcing his mind to stop analyzing, he continued to work on Dean's nipple alternating between swirling his tongue around it to teasing it with the tip of his tongue to sucking on it. He finally pulled back to lock at the pert little nipple and grinned. He switched over to the other one and began working on that one just as hard, and replacing his mouth with his hand on the first one. He definitely liked the reactions and sounds he was pulling out of the senior and let his free hand drift toward Dean's groin. Rubbed lightly at first, unsure. Dean was so hard, and he didn't think Dean would really want to come in his pants but Sam just couldn't bring himself to free Dean's erection. Part of him was already embarrassed at sitting on Dean's lap and feeling it against his flesh. He slowly stroked Dean through the cloth, getting a little braver as he tried to decide if he liked doing it.

* * *

Sam was a quick learner. No doubt about that. Dean knew he probably should have felt a little embarrassed by the sounds he was making just from the feel of the younger boy’s mouth and fingers playing with his nipples. How close he was to creaming in his pants just from that… At least Sam had the excuse of inexperience. But watching the younger boy’s hot pink tongue swirling around his nipples, feeling that wet gentle sucking becoming more intense as Sam’s confidence grew was so fucking hot, who could really blame him?

Dean groaned loud, his head falling back against the seat as Sam’s mouth moved from his first nipple to the other. The younger boy’s fingers continuing to work his now highly sensitive flesh while that talented young mouth worked his other up to the exact same state.

His hands continued to roam over Sam’s hot sweat dampened skin, sweeping down along his back to the swell of his buttocks and back up to pet gently though the younger boy’s hair. Funny how it didn’t even register to Dean where the younger boy’s other hand was until Sam was already touching his cock through his pants. Dean couldn’t help the deep groan that spilled from his lips and the way his hips lifted up trying to increase the too gentle pressure.

“Oh fuck, Sam… yeah… harder, please Sam…” Dean couldn’t help but beg, even though he didn’t want to rush or push the younger boy he couldn’t help it. He needed to come so fucking bad at this point, and he was beyond caring about blowing his load inside of his pants. He was already leaking so badly it hardly mattered now anyway. Besides, now that he had Sam’s hand on his dick, even though the thick layer of cloth, the idea of coming into his own fist wasn’t nearly as appealing. 

* * *

Dean wanted more and after hesitating a moment, Sam obliged. God was Dean big. Hell, he was huge. And he knew being in those pants just had to be killing Dean but…he couldn't bring himself to open up Dean's pants. So instead he did what he knew he could. He rubbed harder, wrapping his hand around as much of Dean's shaft as the pants would let him. He stroked a little faster as he intensified sucking on Dean's nipple. He nipped experimentally and liked the reaction he got. He realized he was getting off on getting Dean all hot and bothered and understood a little why Dean had gotten so off on giving him the blow job. He still wasn't sure he could ever bring himself to do that, though. Even if it wasn't all that gross tasting himself in Dean's mouth…the 'eww' factor was still too high and puking would certainly ruin the mood.

He liked the fact Dean had bucked up a bit at his initial touch. That felt … interesting, him being on Dean's lap and all. He decided to try to alternate the pressure a little. He did want to make the senior squirm some more after all. He wasn't quite prepared though when Dean bucked again when Sam lightened the pressure only to intensify it and ended up falling up against Dean, feeling Dean's hard erection pressing against him.

* * *

Dean moaned louder in approval as Sam’s hand rubbed his cock harder, the pressure both satisfying and teasing at the same time. God, what he wouldn’t give to feel the younger boy’s fingers actually wrapped around his bare cock, or that fucking amazing mouth that was still playing with his nipples. Sucking, _biting_ , making Dean groan again and his fingers tightening a little where they came to rest on the younger boy’s hips.

The material of his underwear and pants was beginning to chafe a little at his over sensitive cock but he hardly cared at the moment. He only cared that Sam keep groping and squeezing him, quickly driving him to the edge.

When the pressure of Sam’s hand let up on his aching cock however, Dean couldn’t help the almost pained sound of complaint that spilled from his lips. He definitely couldn’t help the way his hips bucked up again, desperately seeking more pressure for his aching cock and moaning again when he got it, thrusting up again.

He wasn’t thinking about anything anymore except getting off and when Sam suddenly fell against him he couldn’t help tightening his hold on the younger boy’s hips. Keeping him there as he thrust once, twice, and finally came with a loud cry against Sam. Gasping and shuddering beneath the younger boy. 

* * *

Surprised at suddenly falling forward, he was also surprised when Dean's fingers dug into his hips and he was suddenly riding Dean as Dean thrust against him. They had dry humped against each other but this was different and suddenly Dean cried out and Sam knew he'd made Dean come. He didn't know if he were embarrassed or flattered or aroused by the whole thing, it happened so fast.

And Dean was going to be stuck in wet pants all day. Ugh. Well, he could fix that. They were still reasonably close to his house and he had a pair of the dress slacks his mother hadn't hemmed up and taken in yet because his dad had gotten him the new clothes. Embarrassing as it might be, he could also offer Dean some of his own undershorts. Well, maybe he'd sneak into his parents room and get some of his dad's while Dean cleaned up. His might be a little small on Dean. Then again, maybe not. Sure, his hips were narrower than Dean's but not by much.

He could feel the wetness of Dean's pants against his bare skin and he couldn't deny that turned him on. Like it had the night before when he had arched against the older boy, rubbing their combined seed against the senior's stomach. He wasn't sure why he had wanted to do that, but it just…felt right. If he hadn't just come so hard down Dean's throat, he would be getting hard himself and he knew it. Much more of this and he probably would be anyhow.

He stopped sucking on Dean's nipple and looked up at Dean embarrassed. "Uh, guess that was a little too much? We can go back to my house. I've got a pair of slacks that'll probably fit you okay. And some, uh, dry underwear."

* * *

The continued soft suckling on his nipple drew out his pleasure. Making him shiver as his cock throbbed and pulsed again and again. Christ, but the younger boy could make him come so hard barely even trying. Dean couldn’t help continuing to rub himself against the younger boy. Even knowing that Sam could probably feel the wetness of his come soaking into his pants by this point, there was so much of it. Fuck, he was a mess.

Dean opened his eyes, looking down at Sam when the younger boy’s lips finally left his over sensitive flesh. He forced himself to relax his hold a little on the younger boy’s hips, only now realizing how tightly he’d been holding Sam. His palms gently massaging away the light marks his fingers had left.

He couldn’t help but grin a little at Sam’s words. Yeah, maybe it was a little much. Since there was no fucking way he could go to school like this now, the front of his pants sopping wet like he’d just pissed himself. Not to mention he’d smell like spunk all day long. At the same time he couldn’t really regret it.

Sam’s offer to loan him some clothes… and fresh underwear… took him a little by surprise, but there was really no other option. Dean couldn’t exactly go home and change, Bobby would be there, and he definitely didn’t want to explain why he had to change… not that the other man wouldn’t know anyway just taking one look at him. He couldn’t exactly skip school today either, he was still in the shithouse with Bobby a little from this weekend, Dean was sure. Yeah, they were already late, and would be really fucking late if they had to go back to Sam’s house so he could change, but it would be worse if they didn’t show up at all and Bobby… or Sam’s parents… got wind of it.

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean agreed with a small nod then grinned at the younger boy. He slid his hands up Sam’s back to cup the back of his neck and pulled the younger boy in for a long slow kiss. “That was so damn hot. Maybe I’ll have to show up early from now on after all.” 

* * *

He kissed Dean back, still tasting the saltiness that he knew was his own seed, and still not sure whether he liked the taste or not. He liked the taste of Dean and liked Dean kissing him. The thought of getting a blow job from Dean every morning…definitely not a bad way to start the day. Eventually Dean would want more, not that Sam could blame him, but it still sort of intimidated him. He wished he knew if Dean just liked the sex and thought it was hot or if maybe…Did Dean think he was hot?

There he went again. Acting like a lovesick girl. But he really wanted Dean to think he was hot. Like he wanted to think Dean's apparent caring attitude really was caring. That he really did think Sam was as special as Dean treated him.

He was glad Dean agreed to go back to his place. It made him feel better knowing that Dean wasn't going to be all uncomfortable in his pants all day. He really hoped those pants fit Dean.

Sam broke their kiss and hugged Dean, resting his cheek against Dean's and gave a deep sigh. He wished they could stay here a little longer. He wished he could stay in Dean's protective arms a little longer. And he really wished he didn't have to go to school today.

Reluctantly Sam finally slid off of Dean's lap. Man, Dean's pants were soaked beyond soaked. He'd had that happen is school once but hadn't had the luxury of racing home to change. Talk about embarrassing. At least it had been after lunch and it was all Stacy's fault. Still, walking around the rest of the day with his books over his crotch and sitting in class with the come slowly drying, that had all been awkward and nasty.

He quickly redressed and returned to the front seat, once again tossing his street clothes into the back seat. Maybe keeping an extra set of clothes at school wasn't a bad plan. Dean had suggested making out during lunchtime.

When Dean returned to the driver's seat Sam asked the question that had been tickling his mind since he had decided Dean was kinda-sorta his boyfriend. "Do you…Am I…" Sam shook his head. "Nevermind."

God he was actually going to ask Dean if if Dean had a steady and was cheating on the steady by fucking around with Sam? No. Absolutely not…even if he wanted to know if Dean was going to be maybe be sleeping with other people while Dean was sponsoring him.  


* * *

Despite how the sticky mess in his pants was beginning to grow even more uncomfortable while he sat there now that it was cooling, Dean wasn’t really in any rush for their kiss to end. Christ, he could kiss those soft sweet lips all day long… it was like he was completely addicted to Sam. His kisses, touching the younger boy, tasting him, Dean just couldn’t seem to get enough.

He didn’t know what it was about the younger boy that made him want to both protect and possess him at the same time like this. Dean had never… felt this way about anyone. Sure, he was a hunter, like Bobby, and he saved people on a regular basis, but this was different. This was… personal, even though it should only be ‘business’. He felt like… he’d do anything for Sam. The younger boy only needed to ask. Dean had a feeling, if Sam wanted to, the younger boy could wrap him around his finger without hardly trying… and that kind of scared the shit out of him.

Dean sighed a little when their lips finally parted, and though the hug Sam gave him afterwards surprised the older boy a little he didn’t complain. Even if Dean didn’t normally do ‘cuddling’ after his sexcapades, he didn’t mind it. Not if it meant he got to have Sam close to him for just a bit longer… Christ, what was wrong with him? Ok, they really _really_ needed to get going at this point. What had been fun was slowly edging its way towards awkward…

Dean relaxed his hold on the younger boy, letting Sam slide off his lap but he couldn’t help watch the other boy adjusting his clothes back into place. That enticing body covered up again far too quickly in Dean’s opinion. Shaking his head a little Dean grabbed his own shirt and pulled it back on even though he didn’t button it up, and got out of the car. A quick glance around confirmed that no one had noticed the car parked here, or their activities. Though Dean wondered what he would have done if anyone had? It really wasn’t a very good idea to do this out in the open like this on so many levels. Letting his guard down…

He definitely needed to start thinking with his upstairs brain more when it came to Sam, damn it. This was starting to get out of hand, and they hadn’t even really _done_ anything yet. Just some kissing and a couple messy blow/hand jobs and he was acting like it was the best sex he’d ever had or something.

Dean got back into the driver’s seat, making a face as he sat down but he didn’t bother trying to adjust his pants since there was really no point, no way he was going to get comfortable like this. Maybe he’d take a quick shower at Sam’s house. He glanced briefly at Sam at the younger boy’s almost hesitant words. But while he was a little curious what the other boy was going to ask him when Sam said ‘never mind’ Dean decided it was probably best not to ask. Instead he started the car and pulled out of the warehouse, driving back towards Sam’s house. 

* * *

Sam felt a little guilty they had to go back to his place. At least there was next to no chance either of his parents would show up unless one of them got sick or something, so it should be 'safe.' Everyone who lived around them worked during the day except for that old couple a few houses up, but his parents never spoke with them. Again, safe.

It didn't take long for them to get back to Sam's house and Sam led Dean inside. "You can use my bathroom to clean up and I'll get the pants for you."

Leading Dean down the hall, he pointed to the bathroom across from his door. Crap, he'd left out a bunch of the pictures and stuff he was using to put together Dean's portfolio. They were on his desk and the door was open. Hopefully Dean wouldn't look in his room, but he didn't think Dean would be able to see the pictures from the door. As soon as Dean went into the bathroom Sam rushed into his room and gathered up the pictures and the book he was putting them in and set them on a shelf in his closet. Grabbing the pants from a hanger, he shut his closet door and took out a pair of his briefs.

He glanced around his room. It looked so bare since he had ripped down all his posters. There were still a few bits and pieces of them on his floor, though most of the scraps were in his trashcan. He still hadn't decided what he was going to put up on his walls. Maybe nothing. He knew both his parents were bothered by the fact he had ripped everything down. When his mom asked he just shrugged and said he was tired of them. He knew she knew he was lying.

He crossed the hall and knocked lightly on the door then cracked it open. Sticking his arm through the doorway with the clothes he said, "See if this pair fits."

* * *

Dean had a moment to marvel as he pulled his car back up to the curb in front of the younger boy’s home how he’d promised himself just yesterday that this was going to be the closest he’d return to Sam’s home. Now, here he was following Sam in not even a day later, of his own free will this time no less.

At least it was only for a few minutes for him to shower quick and change his clothes, and Sam’s parents weren’t there.

He followed the younger boy upstairs and nodded as Sam pointed him towards the bathroom. Dean didn’t waste time stripping down inside the bathroom. He threw his shirt over the sink to keep it dry, and wadded up his wet pants and underwear, kicking it in the corner. He’d throw his dirty clothes in his trunk so he could wash them when he got home later. At least it was his turn to do laundry. He definitely wouldn’t have wanted to explain to Bobby why one of his pair of school trousers had ended up in the laundry full of come.

Dean turned on the water and got in the shower, not even really bothering to adjust the water temperature since he was only taking about five minutes to rinse off. He was done and drying off by the time he heard Sam knock on the door and reach through the crack with the clothes.

The young man grinned, feeling a little wicked. Instead of simply taking the clothes from the younger boy, Dean opened the door. He stood there, slightly damp, with only a towel held in front of his crotch, giving Sam plenty of an eyeful.

“Thanks.” He said without any apparent modest, taking the clothes from the younger boy and dropping the towel. 

* * *

Sam was startled when the door opened and Dean was standing there naked, his skin glistening here and there with droplets of water while other parts just had a light sheen. His muscles stood out, highlighted by the shadows in the furrows between the muscles. His nipples were dark pink. Fresh and faint scars were white lines on his chest. His arms were strong looking and his waist narrow. His legs looked as muscular and powerful as the rest of him. This was the first time he had a full on view of the senior. He'd seen different parts of the young man bared to him, but this was the first time it was all at once. At least Dean had the decency to keep his groin covered…

And then the towel hit the floor when Dean took the clothes from him. He couldn't do anything but gape at first then even though it was obvious Dean wanted him to see him completely naked he still felt his cheeks color. Even flaccid, Dean's cock was big and it too glistened with that light sheen of water.

He'd seen plenty of guys naked. One of the unfortunate 'joys' of gym class. But he'd never kissed any of them. None of them had jerked him off or given him a blow job. He felt his cheeks grow more flushed. It wasn't like he was a peeping tom or anything but somehow he felt like it, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He turned away hastily, knowing full well what he'd be dreaming about that night. He knew he had to be beet red, he could feel the heat practically washing over his face.

"I'll, uh, let you get dressed. Tell me if they fit okay." He took the few steps across to his room and got out of the doorway, leaning against the wall. Fuck, Dean was built was all that kept running through his mind. The fact Dean's naked body turned him on was more than a little bothersome. Probably a good thing, he tried to tell himself. He was Dean's bitch…Fuck was that senior built and fuck he was getting a hard on, unable to get the image out of his mind. He was going to be so embarrassed if he had to jack off before they left. How the hell was a guy making him so crazy and horny? He was sixteen, he told himself. He could get a hard on watching someone eat a popsicle. Fuck, was Dean built…

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin, more pleased with himself than he probably should be, but he couldn’t really help it. Sam was just so fucking cute.

The longer the younger boy stood there staring at him, the deeper shades of red Sam got, the more Dean grinned. It was pretty obvious, given the reaction Dean noticed when he glanced down at Sam’s crotch, that the younger boy liked what he saw. A lot. Good. Because he wanted Sam to like looking at him, like touching him, as much as he liked looking at and touching Sam.

It was kind of a shame that embarrassment finally won out and Sam turned and fled to his room. Dean would have been more than happy to give the younger boy a show. Chuckling softly, Dean set the clean clothes down on the sink, but he left the door to the bathroom open. Just in case Sam changed his mind and wanted to take a peak after all.

The underwear was obviously Sam’s, and it was a little on the tight side but not uncomfortably so. It would be better than going commando at least. Dean was a little more skeptical about the pants fitting him though. Sam might not be too much shorter than him, but he was more slender. Though the pants did seem to be a bit big for the younger boy. They were obviously hand me downs, not that Dean really cared about that. All of his uniforms were.

Though the pants did fit they too were a little tight on him, but at least not obscenely so, and it was definitely better than wearing come wet pants all day long. At least the jacket would cover his ass, not that anyone at school had dared to leer at him since his early days there. After putting on his shirt and running the towel through his damp hair one last time, Dean gathered up his dirty clothes.

Dean checked his watch. They weren’t going to make it before first period started... oh well, he’d just say he got a flat tire or something.

“Ready to go?” 

* * *

Sam heard movement in the bathroom. Dean hadn't shut the door, apparently, but he was not going to look in. Dammit he was not going to look in. Dean was probably watching, waiting for Sam to stick his head out. No. He was going to just stare at the far blank wall, the curtains, the window. Anything.

He heard the zipper next and breathed a sigh of relief. The pants apparently fit. Dean was dressed. Dressed enough anyhow that Sam wasn't going to stare. He did peak out the door at that point. Dean was bent over, picking up his clothes and, god those pants were tight leaving little to the imagination. He saw Dean start to straighten and jerked back, still hiding in his room.

He heard Dean's question and bit his lip. Fuck he needed a cold shower or something. This was ridiculous.

"Uh, yeah. I just need to, uh, use the restroom when you're done," Sam said from his room, his voice cracking. How much more embarrassed could he get? He was hard enough at this point that he really needed to do something about it. He could jack off fast, he told himself, fast enough Dean wouldn't know, didn't need to know. Pretty soon though he was going to start leaking precome in his pants. Maybe he better start bringing extra underwear to school. Extra pants for that matter. When Dean said he was done, Sam stepped out of his room toward the bathroom.

* * *

Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud when he heard Sam’s rather strained voice float from the direction of the younger boy’s bedroom. Though Sam didn’t emerge right away and he couldn’t help but wonder if the younger boy was jerking off in there. Dean would be impressed if he was, considering other boy had already come twice this morning, the second time less than fifteen minutes ago.

Damn, to be sixteen again. Though Dean knew he wasn’t much better considering the idea that Sam might be jerking off thinking about him was making his own cock twitch a little. The idea of skipping school entirely and spending the day kissing, touching, and fucking the younger boy was definitely looking more and more tempting.

Not that he actually liked going to that fucking school anyway… and Sam didn’t seem too thrilled about going either, and who could blame him? But, then Bobby would hear that he’d missed school again, and so would Sam’s parents… yeah, that was a shit storm he’d rather avoid, since he was sure they already hated him as much as he hated them. The last thing they needed was the parental units deciding that he was too much of a ‘bad influence’ and tell Sam to stay away from him.

So as much as he might have wanted to suggest they just stay here, or to at least offer Sam help with his new problem, he did neither. He simply waited out in the hallway, leaning up against the wall. Giving the younger boy a knowing grin as Sam hurried past him into the bathroom.

“Don’t take too long. You wouldn’t want to miss your first class.” Dean told the younger boy, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard through the now closed bathroom door. 

* * *

Plain as day, Dean's grin told him he knew exactly what Sam needed to do. He was glad the door was already shut behind him because dammit if he wasn't blushing again, made even worse when Dean made his comment. He dropped his pants quickly and used some lotion from the cabinet and took hold of his hard cock. It didn't take much encouragement for his cock to go from hard to rock hard. He tried to think of Stacy or Amanda, but thoughts of Dean overrode them all. Dean coming on him last night. Dean jerking him off. Dean giving him the blow job—Oh yeah that had him pumping harder, and then sucking on Dean's nipple, groping him and then feeling Dean thrust against him. Matching his memory of when Dean came was all it took and he sprayed the toilet bowl with his spunk. He tried to keep his groan quiet, as if his mother were outside his door or something, but he wasn't sure he succeeded well at all. He milked himself dry quickly, biting back his moans, and then used icy water to wipe his cock free of the lotion and washed his hands. His dick was softening enough he could stuff himself back into his pants without it being terribly uncomfortable. His pants done up he splashed cold water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror.

This was nuts. This was just fucking nuts. He had to pull himself together and stop acting like Dean was some supermodel with bobbling breasts with pink nipples (pink like Dean's) and narrow waist (like Dean's waist) and an ass to die for (…like Dean's). Dean had only been 'on the job' one day so far, and not managed to protect Sam, but Sam had been the one to walk away from the door and make himself vulnerable. Already Sam had kissed him and played with his nipples and sucked on his chest and groped the young man. And now saw him full frontal. Already he had let Dean touch his cock, jerk him off, and blow him. And he hadn't even known the senior a week yet. It was payment, he told himself. Nothing personal. Dean had said it last week. He was Sam's bodyguard, not his friend. He just wanted Sam for a good fuck when he wanted or needed it. But the gentleness he had seen in Dean's eyes…and Dean had said didn't have to do anything he didn't want to…nah, he couldn't really mean that. He was just giving Sam time to adjust to it all. To learn to be his cock slut and a place to stick his dick. Yeah. Just hang on to those thoughts.

It wasn't a crime he was enjoying the sexual attention. He just couldn't grow attached to Dean. He couldn't start thinking there was something in the relationship, no, the arrangement, that wasn't really there. The newness would wear off soon enough and with it, all the strange emotions and attractions Sam was feeling toward the senior.

He filled up a cup of water and drank it down. Okay. They had to get going. They were already way late. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door. "Okay. Ready," Sam said as nonchalantly as he could manage and headed for the front door.

* * *

Dean listened unashamedly to what was going on inside the bathroom while he waited for Sam. He didn't have his ear to the door or anything, but he didn't try to block out the sounds of slick skin on skin or the little grunts and soft moans of pleasure the younger boy was making.

Dean was actually a little disappointed that Sam was obviously trying to be so quiet about it though. Not like anyone else was here, just him, so Sam just didn't want _him_ to hear him jerking off. Or maybe he was more disappointed that Sam hadn't asked him for a hand… though if he did there was a good chance neither of them would get out of here any time soon.

He had to admit, he was confused. Dean had just practically sucked the younger boy's brains out through his cock, all the while Sam moaning like a porn star in the back seat of his car… now Sam didn't want him to hear him beating off? And really, who the hell chose to beat off with their own hand when there was someone else, obviously willing, to do it for them? What was with the sudden modesty?

Was Sam regretting letting him do that now? Dean had been certain that the younger boy had loved every second of it but… maybe he was wrong. He had told Sam that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want. He could have just told him no, god damn it.

What had been amusing suddenly wasn't so much anymore. It was even less so when Sam finally finished in the bathroom and hurried out and past him without so much as looking at him, and Dean couldn't help but frown at the younger boy's retreating back. If he hadn't just sucked on Sam's dick he would have accused the boy of really being a chick with PMS.

Dean sighed to himself as he headed out to the car, opened the trunk and tossed his dirty clothes into the back. Then he got back into the driver's, started the car, and turned up his music, without so much as glancing at the younger boy sitting next to him. If Sam wanted to pretend that Dean hadn't sucked him off and made him come probably harder than he ever had in his life… fine. It wouldn't happen again.

* * *

Sam noticed the way Dean turned up the radio and the way he didn't look at him. Dean was angry when he cranked the radio like that, his own way of saying 'don't talk to me.' Of course, Sam wasn't supposed to anyhow. He wasn't supposed to annoy the senior. What had he done that made Dean so pissy? Because he didn't stand there and gawk at his nakedness and sinfully handsome body? Okay, he had gawked but he had retreated back to his bedroom as fast as he could gather his wits. Maybe…maybe he had screwed up. Maybe Dean expected him to make over him, make out with him.

He was just so damned confused by it all. Overwhelmed by it all. Everything was coming at him so fast, he just didn't know how to deal with it. Dean had to cut him some slack, god-dammit. He was trying. He just couldn't go from being a virgin to acting like a whore overnight. It was wrong to just completely dive into full blown sex and everything…wasn't it? …not if that's what Dean expected…but Dean said he didn't have to do anything…well fuck. Just FUCK.

He couldn't deny he had kind of hoped Dean would have offered to help him come off, but shit, if he had, it probably wouldn't have stopped there. The thought of Dean spooned up against him, jacking him off, maybe even thrusting against him…hell, he'd be getting hard again if he hadn't just come. He was too embarrassed to ask Dean to do that, though. He gave a soft sigh. He was going to have to get over it. He was developing feelings he shouldn't have. Infatuation, surely. The way Eric's money and attention had infatuated him, Dean's kissing and making out was doing the same thing. That and the care Dean had shown him when he was hurt, as if Sam meant something to him.

There he went again. Being a fucking girl about it all.

"Would you…could you pull back into the warehouse, just for a minute?" Sam asked. "Please?"

* * *

Dean had fully expected the drive to the school to be silent the whole way, so he was surprised to say the least when Sam spoke. He was even more surprised by the younger boy’s request. The warehouse? Again? What the fuck? Seriously… hadn’t the other boy come enough for one day? Or at least in one hour.

He glanced briefly over at Sam before turning his attention back to the road with a sigh and a small shake of his head. No, it probably wasn’t a good idea. At least not until he had some time to figure out just what the hell was going on between them. The mixed signals he was getting from Sam were confusing the hell out of him… or maybe they weren’t mixed at all. Maybe _he_ was simply reading way too fucking much into it, thinking too much with his dick, or whatever.

Dean had never done anything like this before. His normal flings consisted of one night stands, and that was pretty much it. He’d never had a fuck buddy… or whatever the hell they were… And he wasn’t even sure if Sam really wanted this arrangement anymore. Maybe he’d pushed too hard and spooked the younger boy and… it was just time to back off a little.

He hadn’t even successfully protected Sam for one day yet. Sam had given him more than enough of a ‘down payment’ right? That’s all this was. Business. Just business.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’re already damned late as it is.” Dean finally replied matter-of-factly. 

* * *

"Then five more minutes isn't going to matter," Sam said. "Please, Dean? I promise, it'll just take a minute. You don't even have to shut the car off."

Sam practically held his breath, exhaling in relief when Dean grudgingly nodded. When they reached the place, Dean pulled in to practically the same spot as before. Sam pushed the door open and walked around the front of the car to reach Dean's door. He opened it and took hold of Dean's arm and tugged.

"C'mon, get out," Sam said. He could see Dean was getting a little annoyed with him, but he didn't care. As soon as Dean was out of the car, Sam shut the door then pressed Dean up against the car. Wrapping his arms around Dean's neck, he kissed him, pushing his tongue inside Dean's mouth and stroking Dean's tongue, encouraging Dean to tangle his tongue with his own. He finally broke the intense kiss albeit reluctantly.

"I couldn't do that once we got to school," Sam explained, blushing just a little. "And I wanted to. And dude…keep the pants…you look, uhm, they fit you, uh, really nice. Really nice." He planted a final quick kiss on Dean's lips and hurried back to his side of the car.

"Well, c'mon," Sam said, smirking just a bit. "We're going to be late."

He slid into his seat and with a happy sigh, belting himself back in. Okay. He could face school now. He might be confused about a lot of things right now but, whether it was fucked up or not, he knew he liked kissing Dean. A lot.

* * *

Dean frowned at Sam’s insistence. Really… what the hell? He was really fucking tempted to just keep driving to the school anyway despite Sam’s insistence. But since he couldn’t really come up with a good reason not to do what Sam asked, especially since he really didn’t give a shit about being late and apparently neither did Sam, Dean finally nodded. It certainly had nothing to do with the way Sam said ‘Please, Dean’.

By the time Dean pulled the car back onto Neilsen street he couldn’t deny he was a little bit curious as to what Sam wanted. Though when Sam quickly got out of the car, barely giving him a chance to put the car into park first, Dean’s frown deepened a little. He couldn’t deny giving the younger boy a slightly suspicious look when Sam came around to his side of the car and started tugging on him.

But, again, he did as Sam asked. Christ, when did he become such a pushover? And soon he found himself with pressed against his own car with his arms full of Sam and the younger boy’s tongue in his mouth. Despite his earlier thoughts about backing off, he couldn’t seem to help wrapping his arms tightly around Sam. Holding the younger boy close as he returned the surprise, but very welcome, kiss.

Sam’s explanation made Dean’s lips quirk a little in spite of himself and the younger boy’s insistence that he keep the pants he was wearing made him chuckle softly. He was still smiling, even as he reluctantly released the younger boy and got back into the car. Noticing a matching all too pleased smirk on Sam’s face as well… he was so screwed.

Even as he started up the car and pulled back into the street he realized he didn’t seem to mind. 

* * *

When the school came into view, Sam gave a resigned sigh. With Dean at his side though, it ought to be an okay day. He still figured he would get nailed a couple times by some of Eric's cronies, but a shove or a punch, that he could handle. Getting his ass handed to him again, no, not with Dean around. He rolled his eyes when he saw the new Ferrari with temporary tags on it. Well that didn't take long. And it was a sure bet the alarm system would be active when it was parked at the school now. Hell, the Lancasters would probably demanded security cameras put in.

Looking around he gave a soft laugh and shook his head. They already were. Didn't matter though. Sam could hack those easy, set up a loop or malfunction, then do something new and evil to the car. Dean got to have all the fun last time. Sam would probably be more subtle though he couldn't deny the thought of taking a crowbar to the new car was tempting. He'd have to figure out how to disable a car alarm. It couldn't be that hard. Until then, he'd start small. Nails in a couple of the tires would do for a start. Then do it again, but this time superglue a couple of the nuts or even just the cap to the stems for putting air into the tires. Minor inconveniences. He could use a centerpunch at the base of the window maybe. He'd have to figure out how to do damage without shattering the window. Put in the right stress in the right place and the window would maybe shatter when he hit a bad bump or even slammed the car door. Sam could practice on some of the junk cars at the salvage yard if Dean would let him. Oh yes. He could come up with lots of little annoyances to drive Eric up the wall. Eric hated it when he was having a day of little things going wrong, especially if they just seemed to be bad luck.

"They've already put in security cameras," Sam said, though he figured Dean saw them. "Least it means it'll be harder for him to do damage to your car, too."

After Dean parked, Sam shouldered his backpack and climbed out of the car. "Everyone ought to be in class. I should be able to get to my class without trouble if you want to go ahead to your class. I don't need to stop at my locker until lunchtime." He glanced over at Dean. They would need to keep their stories the same. "So, we're late because of a flat tire?" he suggested.

* * *

Dean noticed the new security cameras as well as soon as he pulled his car into the school’s parking lot. They’re appearance didn’t really surprise him. In fact, he was more surprised they hadn’t been installed sooner. But then again, Dean hadn’t even seen Eric, or his car, for the rest of last week after Sam had been beaten so badly. The bastard was probably too busy picking out his new Ferrari and trying to get him arrested for vandalism. Not that he’d have much luck considering there was no actual proof he’d done anything to the expensive piece of shit. Still, Dean was a little surprised no cops had come knocking on their door at the salvage yard to ask ‘questions’.

He honestly wasn’t really worried about Eric, or any of his posse, trying to do anything to his car in retaliation. After he had broken the little punk’s wrist just for keying up his car, Dean warned him that if he caught, or even suspected, he had done anything to his car he’d do a lot more than just break a couple of bones. Then, when the shits jumped him, he proved to them he could make good on every one of his threats.

Dean glanced at Sam. No, if any retaliation was going to happen it wouldn’t happen to his car. It would happen to Sam. Because he’d shown he cared about what happened to the younger boy. Kill two birds with one stone. Punish the younger boy for going to him for protection and not back to Eric. Punish him at the same time watching Sam get hurt all over again and not being able to stop it…

No, god damn it. It wouldn’t happen again.

Still, Dean parked his car close to one of the security cameras just in case. If something did happen to his car that made it not drivable he couldn’t just get a new one. It would take time to fix, and if he didn’t have a car, it would make it a lot harder to keep an eye on Sam if he couldn’t pick him up in the morning and take him home. Best not to risk it.

Dean frowned a little when he got out of the car and Sam told him he would be ‘fine’ walking to class on his own. This was exactly what had gotten the younger boy in trouble last time… other than the fact that Dean hadn’t gotten there in time. Sam hadn’t listened to him, thought he’d be ‘fine’ and look what happened. The older boy rounded the car and stood in front of Sam, his frown of displeasure still in place.

“What are the rules, Sam?” Dean demanded, and when the younger boy hesitated, he reminded him. “Don’t go anywhere alone. Stay in front of a teacher if I’m not around. Plain and simple, Sam. I don’t care if you need to take a piss, or get a drink, think it’s safe, or whatever. You don’t go anywhere alone. Got it?”

Dean’s expression softened a little as he brushed the back of his fingers over an almost faded bruise on Sam’s cheek.

“I don’t want to have to scrape your ass off the floor again.” He said softly, then after a moment Dean dropped his hand and nodded. “Flat tire.” 

* * *

The scowl on Dean's face as he blocked Sam from walking any further on campus startled Sam. What had he done wrong? Rules? _No more babbling. Stay out of my way. Don't annoy the shit out of me._ Had he been babbling? He didn’t think he had. He had stayed out of his way, other than getting him to stop at the warehouse, but that wasn't really getting in his way, though maybe it did keep them from getting to school a few minutes earlier. Had he…had he done something to annoy Dean? Where had he fucked up?

Oh. That rule. Don't walk alone. He was surprised by the gentle brush of Dean's touch on his face. It was almost…caring. And his words. They sounded more concerned than he ever expected. Did he mean more to Dean than just…no. He was being stupid and girlie again. Wishful thinking. Wishful thinking? Shit, he barely knew Dean. So they'd made out. So what. Didn't mean they were boyfriends or anything. It was just…payment.

"Sorry. I just didn't want you to be any later to class than you already are. It's my fault we're so late in the first place." Sam shut up abruptly. He was starting to babble, starting to tell Dean things Dean already knew. Instead he headed off toward his class, Dean beside him. He swept his gaze around campus. It was quiet, no one was out. Like he told Dean, everyone was in class. But he wasn't about to point that out. They reached the door to his first period class.

"Thanks. I'll wait in the classroom until you come in to get me," Sam promised. He opened the door and the teacher looked over at him.

"Sorry, sir. We had a flat tire."

The teacher gave a curt nod and waved Sam to take a seat, then continued his lecture.

* * *

Dean’s frown didn’t really leave his face even as he followed the younger boy through the campus to Sam’s first class. Sam just didn’t seem to get it. He didn’t give a damn about being late for class. If he had, he never would have stopped at the warehouse to begin with. He certainly wasn’t going to risk anything happening to Sam when he was not around just to save a few extra minutes. Being a few minutes later certainly wasn’t going to matter at this point anyway, as Sam had pointed out before.

Yeah, maybe Sam would have been just fine walking on his own. The campus and the halls were pretty much empty with all the teachers and students in the middle of first period. But he wasn’t going to take that chance. Dean remembered all too well having to _carry_ Sam out to his car after those punks had beat the shit out of the younger boy. All because he hadn’t been there when he promised to…

If he hadn’t shown up when he did what else would they have done to the younger boy? He didn’t want to find out. So no matter how ‘safe’ it looked, he was going to make sure Sam got to and from classes in one piece. If the younger boy didn’t like it, well, tough.

Dean gave Sam a small nod, and waited out in the hall until Sam had gone inside the classroom, then made his way to his own. Even knowing that nothing could really happen to Sam in the middle of class with the teacher there he felt uneasy about leaving the younger boy. It was unfortunate they didn’t have more classes together, but that just wasn’t something he could change. The principal’s permission for him to leave class early to pick up Sam… that would have to be enough.

When Dean finally got to his own class he wasn’t surprised when the teacher gave him hell for being late and handing him lunch detention again even with his flat tire excuse. The guy was a complete asshole. He didn’t bother arguing though, knowing there was not point, and just took his seat. He hoped Sam didn’t mind having detention with him, since there was no way he was going to let the younger boy out of his sight during lunch. 

* * *

There were definite looks and whispers when the teacher turned to write something on the board. Sam guessed he would have to get used to that. He wasn't sure anyone saw Dean outside the door. Maybe a few people did, though even one would be all it would take. Maybe some of the looks and whispers stemmed from his still healing bruises. It didn't matter he guessed. By lunchtime everyone would know Sam and Dean were definitely together. Speaking of lunch, he wondered if he and Dean were going off campus…to eat. Maybe he ought to cool it a little. He was the one who kept making the implied advances. He supposed he just wanted Dean to know he would meet his end of the deal but he should probably let Dean make the next advance.

He tried to pay attention to the teacher, but found his mind wandering back again and again to Dean, wondering how his class was going. Wandering back to last week when he got jumped all those different times. He was suddenly very glad he had Dean at his back. Though he really liked having Dean at his front…He rolled his eyes and slightly shook his head. Focus, dammit. He tried again to take notes and was finally beginning to figure out what the teacher was talking about when the bell rang, startling him. He stood up and pulled his back pack out from under the desk. As he was stuffing his notebook into his backpack, kids were filing passed him and he realized his stupidity a second too late. The elbow nailed his square in the back as a foot hooked around his ankle and yanked. He went sprawling forward across the seat, his backpack sliding to the floor, books falling out. He struggled up and saw Barry and Matt snickering to each other. Sam gave them an evil smile, pushing back the painful throbbing in his back.

"Glad you enjoyed it. Yours is going to hurt a lot worse," he said.

They gave him a wary if unsure look.

"Winchester," Sam said simply.

They smirked at one another. It was obvious that they didn't believe him. That was okay. They'd find out soon enough.

"Mr. Colt, are you all right?" the teacher asked coming toward him.

"I'm fine," Sam said, wincing as he knelt and gathered his spilled things. He couldn't deny he deserved getting nailed if he couldn't keep his head about him. Survival of the fittest and all that crap. Even his mom would be ashamed of him for that blunder. His dad would smack him up side the head and tell him to pay attention. And he needed to. He couldn't walk around with his head up his ass if he wanted to get through the day. Dammit, Dean was walking him to and from class. It was up to Sam to look after himself in the classroom. He should at least be able to manage that.

* * *

Dean barely paid attention to the long winded history teacher during the lecture and was all too happy to start packing up his stuff early. His teacher gave him the evil eye when Dean got up five minutes before the bell was about to ring.  


  
“I have permission to leave.” Dean took great pleasure in reminding the older man that he had permission from the principal to leave early.

The asshole scowled at him, but there was really nothing he could do and he knew it. So the teacher finished giving out the homework assignment a little more sharply and reminded Dean that he had detention during lunch.

Dean gave him the finger when the teacher’s back was turned back to the blackboard, earning a few snickers in class. Dean was out the door before the asshole could turn around to see what it was about.

He walked quickly back towards Sam’s classroom but still didn’t get there before the bell rang. God damn it. Why did his class have to be on the other side of the damned campus? At least he was almost there. Sam better be waiting for him, or he’d throttle the younger boy himself.

Dean got to Sam’s class as most of the students were filing out. He was there in time to see Sam on the floor picking up his things and two boys standing over him. The teacher was still in there, so of course the little fucks couldn’t start wailing on Sam, but it was obvious they were the cause of Sam’s little mishap. If he found fresh bruises on the younger boy... Dean was almost disappointed that the teacher was in the room after all... it meant he couldn’t rip the little fucks a new asshole. That would have to wait till later. Didn’t mean he couldn’t make them shit their pants a little until then.

“Why don’t you help Sam with his things.” Dean practically growled directly behind the two boys. "And apologize"

* * *

Sam hid his own smirk as he saw Dean walk up behind the boys. He thought the two were going to have to be either peeled off the ceiling or shit their pants or maybe both when Dean growled in their ears. The boys stood frozen in place for a moment.

Sam thought Dean was going to shove them or something, but the boys slowly knelt down and handed Sam the folders that had skittered across the floor and one of his notebooks.

"What was that, Barry? Did I hear you say something?" Sam asked.

Barry hadn't said a word. He glared daggers at Sam. "Sorry I bumped into you, Colt," Barry muttered.

Sam looked at Matt.

Matt held up his hands. "Didn't touch you," he said.

"Somehow, I don't think that matters to him," Sam said innocently.

Looking over his shoulder at the glowering senior Matt turned back to Sam. "Sorry."

Sam smiled, but his eyes were hard as steel. "Apologies accepted. But you both might want to be a bit more careful next time. You know what I mean?"

Sam stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Crap. That was going to be a nice bruise just below his shoulder blade. At least it wasn't kidney level. He saw the teacher watching them closely.

"C'mon Dean. Don't want to be late for second period." He pushed by the boys. They jumped back a little, expecting Sam to retaliate. He would. Eventually. But not now.

* * *

The two shits harassing Sam practically jumped a foot in the air and Dean found it really difficult not to laugh, especially when he saw Sam fighting his own grin. The two boys stood looking at him like a couple of deer caught in headlights for a couple moments before their survival instincts took over and they dropped to do exactly as he said. Helping Sam gather up his books and apologizing. Though not nearly sincerely enough that Dean was about to let them off the hook. Oh no.

Dean waited for Sam to get his things and nodded when the younger boy suggested they go, though he didn’t take his eyes off the two boys who looked ready to bolt any second.

“Catch you later.” Dean told them with a grim smile, and he was sure the two shit heads paled a few more shades right before his eyes. They looked pretty well terrified. Good. If he had to remind everyone just why they should be more afraid of him then of Eric, so be it.

Dean followed Sam out into the hall then, putting a hand on the younger boy’s lower back possessively as they walked.

“Oh, by the way. I have detention during lunch.” Dean said, almost conversationally, though he rolled his eyes in annoyance at the thought. “I can skip it if you don’t want to join me though.” 

* * *

Sam bit the inside of his cheek at Dean's comment to the teens. He wanted to turn and look at them and see just how scared they looked, but resisted. Oh what the hell. He turned and saw they were about as white as chalk. He gave them a bit of a smile. "Told you," he said simply.

It was a little weird having Dean's hand on his back, practically around his waist like he was some chick. He could see it now, somebody clicking a picture with their cellphone and emailing it to his parents. He wasn't real worried about that. He'd just tell the truth. That was the way it was in that school. Dean had to show Sam was under his protection. It also wasn't lost on Sam that the senior could easily shove him out of the way if there was bigger trouble. He didn't really realize that Dean's arm around him made him relax some, feeling safe, and he moved just a little closer to Dean as they walked.

"Detention for being late or smarting off to your teacher?" Sam asked. "Nah, I don't mind. So long as we can stop by the lunch room and grab a sandwich. Got a lot of homework to catch up on anyhow. And no, you can't skip it. Piss the teacher off enough and you'll end up suspended and I'll end up a little bloody smear."

* * *

Dean smiled a little when Sam walked closer to him, practically inviting him to wrap his arm around him completely, instead of shoving his hand off or something. Not that he thought that the younger boy would really do that, but there was a chance Sam be embarrassed and would protest Dean ‘marking his territory’ this way. Considering Sam wasn’t some blushing teenage girlfriend… despite the younger boy’s tendency for PMS worthy displays.

As far as he could tell though, Sam wasn’t even blushing in embarrassment at the overly familiar hand at his back. Dean realized he didn’t really mind it either. He liked being able to display, without a shadow of a doubt, that Sam was his. Keeping Sam close to him like this also pretty much insured no one was going to even attempt to fuck with the younger boy. No one was dumb enough to try to go through him to get to Sam.

Though he forced himself not to let his hand rest any lower on his back to at least keep the illusion of a platonic relationship. The last thing he needed was one of the asshole teachers making problems for them because Sam was underage. Even though the fucking thing happened every day right under their noses, and other ‘sponsors’ weren’t nearly as nice as he was to Sam. Because he wasn’t anyone ‘important’ a few asshole teachers, like his history professor, would just love the excuse of slapping him with statutory rape charge to get him expelled, or even arrested.

Dean was so lost in his thoughts and keeping an eye out for trouble he almost missed Sam’s question over why he had detention. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Really, it was something Bobby would say to him, because the older man knew him too well.

“Being late, cause the history teacher is a douche.” Dean answered, and gave the younger boy a slight nod. “Yeah, we can pick something up before hand.”

Sam’s reminder of why he couldn’t get suspended sobered him a little and he had to resist tugging the younger boy a little closer to him. Yeah, he had to be careful not to piss off his asshole professors. While normally he wouldn’t care… well, except for Bobby throwing a fit about being suspended again… he really couldn’t risk getting suspended. Not that he would let Sam go to school if that happened. He’d just bring Sam to the salvage yard with him, end of story. But that was a shit storm better avoided.

“I’m not going to let that happen.” He promised. 

* * *

"Guess we better be sure to be on time tomorrow," Sam said. "Besides, if I miss homeroom a couple of times that teacher will probably nail me with a detention, too. Pretty sure he hates me, especially since I know his dirty little secret. And he'd probably make it an after school detention."

With Dean's confirmation they could grab lunch, Sam nodded. "Good. Today's cordon bleu and I like cordon bleu."

He looked over at Dean when Dean made his firm promise. "I know you won't. You hardly even knew me when you stepped in as I was headed to the bus stop and was going to get jumped again." He chuckled softly. "Though I guess we still don't actually know much about each other." He turned his gaze back on the corridor, watching for anyone on Eric's payroll. "But I remember the rules. No life stories. No babbling. No annoying. Stay out of your way. And don't go anywhere alone."

Sam almost stopped when he saw Eric leaning against the lockers up ahead, Adam and Cody at his side like always. Sam got the distinct impression Eric was waiting on them. Hell, he had to be. Eric's next class was in a different building and his locker was in a different wing from where they were now. 

* * *

Dean nodded in agreement, though he knew it would mean no making out in the morning anymore, which was a shame. Then he reminded himself that he was supposed to stop thinking so much with his dick. Unfortunately that seemed to be a little easier said than done when it came to Sam.

But the younger boy was right. They had to be careful because neither of them could risk getting suspended or even detentions. Especially when there were asshole teachers, like Sam’s home room teacher, that might make it a point to ‘step out’, leaving Sam alone, and give Eric or his ‘minions’ a chance at Sam.

He supposed Sam was right, they didn’t know much about each other. Though for him, that was probably a good thing. If Sam knew too much about him… well, the younger boy certainly wouldn’t be letting Dean touch him that was for damned sure. If Sam learned where he’d gotten all his scars from, how he hunted ‘monsters’ on the weekends with Bobby, some of the things Dean had done to survive… Sam would think he was a freak, just like everyone else. In fact, if Sam didn’t run screaming in the other direction he’d be surprised. No, Sam didn’t want to know about him, and Dean didn’t want him to know.

Dean saw Eric and his cronies standing in the hallway the same time Sam did and he felt the younger boy’s hesitation, but Dean didn’t let him stop. Moving his hand up from the younger boy’s back to Sam’s shoulder, Dean didn’t really care how it looked, as he tucked Sam a little closer to him protectively. Dean met the other senior’s hard glare with his own unflinching.

“Don’t stop.” Dean whispered softly in Sam’s ear.

Eric said nothing as they passed, though he didn’t bother to hide the burning anger in his eyes. He knew that Winchester was the one who’d trashed his car. From what he’d heard, Sam hadn’t been in any shape to do it.

That had been his last warning to Sam. Now Eric was tired of this game. The little cunt was so brave when he had his junk yard dog looking after him? Well, it was past time to take Winchester out of the picture then. 

* * *

Sam wanted to stop, wanted to turn around and go the other direction. Eric had death in his eyes but it was for both of them, not just Sam. And maybe that scared him even more. He didn't want Dean to get hurt because of him. The comfort of having Dean at his side, at the way the senior pulled him close, gave him the strength to glare back at Eric. He wanted to put his arm around Dean's waist, to pull them even closer together, but they were in public and that was just probably a bad idea. Everyone knew Dean was his sponsor, or at least knew Dean was playing bodyguard, so Sam could easily explain away the protective arm around his shoulders. His arm around Dean's waist? That would be a tad harder to explain.

Dean's order not to stop made him keep moving and he was more than a little relieved when they got past Eric unaccosted. His room was around the corner for his next class. They were actually in this class together and after seeing Eric, it comforted him having Dean there. Dean preferred the back of the classroom and at this point, Sam was seeing the wisdom in that. You could keep an eye on your enemies and not get nailed from behind. He was going to sit beside Dean but the senior's eyes flicked to the desk in front of where Dean was sitting. It made sense when Sam thought about it. That way Dean could see everyone except the person directly in front of Sam. Dean knew so many little common sense things that Sam just never thought about. He couldn't deny he wished he didn't need to know them, but he was definitely anxious to start learning from Dean. Well, learning things about fighting. The senior had definitely already taught him some things in other arenas.

Settling into his seat Sam pulled out his notebook and opened it, ready to start taking notes. Maybe it was kind of cowardly but he wished Dean were in all his classes.


	6. Chapter 6

  
Dean was more than ready to pack up his things to leave five minutes before the final bell rang for the day. His actions of course earning him another annoyed glare from his prick of a teacher, just like most of his other teachers.    


  
  
Not that he really gave a damn, but it was still a little annoying all the same. He was sure if he'd been one of the rich prep school ass kissers he wouldn't be getting the evil eye every time he left class early. But because he was the 'freak of nature' getting the special treatment... He would have to thank the principal personally the next time he ran into the older man. Dean could only imagine the flack he must be getting for this last little favor to him and Bobby.

All in all, the day had been rather uneventful, for which Dean was very glad for. Except for the minor run in with Eric in the hall, which hadn't even been an encounter so much as a glaring match, and the kids who'd harassed Sam during first period, nothing else had happened.

Dean had to admit, the classes he was able to share with Sam made things a lot easier, if only so he could watch the younger boy's back literally as well as figuratively. Not having to worry about what was happening to Sam when he was out of his sight.

He was glad that Bobby and the Principal had managed to pull a few more strings and got his gym class switched around at least so he was in the same class as Sam. Dean didn't want to think about all the things that could happen to the younger boy, especially in the shower room, without him there otherwise.

Lunch had also been pretty uneventful. When they'd gone to pick up some food, everyone had stayed out of their way, giving both of them a pretty wide berth. Then he'd gone to serve his detention, writing lines again, while Sam sat at one of the desks and did his homework. Dean had to admit, it wasn't so bad as far as detentions went. Even though he didn't look or talk at Sam, he could feel the younger boy's eyes on him occasionally. Especially after Dean had taken off his jacket while he worked, showing off those nice tight pants he was borrowing.

His last class was rather close to Sam's so he got there before the final bell rang, and Dean stood outside the door to the younger boy's classroom while he waited. Dean had to admit, as uneventful as the day had been, he was more than ready to get the hell out of here.

* * *

Sam was glad the day was over. He could feel the tension in his neck and shoulders from all the anticipation throughout the day of someone attacking him. Less so when Dean was there, but still he was anxious all the same. Lunch detention had been kind of relaxing, at least for him. He didn’t realize they made students write lines on the board, he just figured it was Dean having to sit in class doing nothing, or working on a project or something. Of course, he had never actually gotten a detention to know.

It was kind of irritating he couldn't talk to Dean, but he was learning to be quiet around the senior anyhow even if it was hard sometimes. He was doing fine concentrating on his homework until Dean took off his jacket. God those tight pants… he had to force his eyes away from the older youth, but his eyes kept drifting back up. He hoped the teacher didn't notice. That would be embarrassing as hell, that he was ogling Dean. He shook his head a little. He shouldn't be embarrassed. Everyone knew about sponsoring and it would take a lunkhead not to know Dean was sponsoring him. Screw the teacher. He took a nice, long look and he knew Dean could tell Sam was watching him. He grinned and went back to his homework.

To say Sam was shocked when Dean turned up in his gym class was an understatement. From the looks on some of his classmates faces, it not only was a shock but one major upset for them. He didn't think he really wanted to know what they had had planned for him. Of course showering, Dean naked, practically right beside him. He had to keep his eyes off Dean or he would have ended up with a major woody. In detention, Dean had felt Sam's eyes on him. He could feel Dean's eyes on him. It was damned hard not to blush, but he managed it. Barely.

Come the final bell he was so damned ready to go home. Dean stepped in almost as soon as the bell rang and the door opened. Sam sat in back and waited for the others to file out, then headed out the door, Dean right on his heels, his hand in the small of Sam's back again.

"Gotta go to my locker real fast."

As soon as Sam reached it, he quickly switched out the books he would need for his homework. Last week had pretty much been a bust as far as homework and he had a lot to catch up on, but he figured he would focus on a couple classes at a time. Most important were the ones that had exams coming up.

"Okay," he said. "I'm ready."  


* * *

  


It never failed to amuse Dean watching the students who were leaving Sam’s classroom practically fall over themselves trying to get out of his way, obviously not expecting him to try to get in while they were trying to leave. He smirked to himself and waited for the tide of students to leave, his eyes immediately falling on Sam now sitting at the back of the class. The boy was a quick learner.

He nodded as he followed Sam out the door and down the hallway to the younger boy’s locker. With his hand at Sam’s back Dean could feel the tension in the other boy’s muscles, and he couldn’t really blame Sam.

Unfortunately Dean was pessimistic by nature, to say the least, and he knew just because they hadn’t run into any trouble today didn’t mean they wouldn’t tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. He wish there would come a point where Sam could relax and not have to constantly watch his back, but Dean knew all too well that day would never come. At least, not while Sam was in this school. It was a fucking hard lesson to learn. It never failed, the day Sam relaxed, stopped looking over his shoulder, was the day Eric, or someone like him, would strike.

When Sam was done getting his things and said he was ready to go, Dean nodded again and looped one of his arms around the younger boy’s shoulders once again as he led Sam out of the building towards the parking lot. Keeping Sam closer to him because he knew this was one of the most dangerous times for them. Everyone in a rush to leave, faculty backs would be turned, anything could happen.

But nothing did. By the time he and Sam reached the parking lot, the new Ferrari was already gone. Dean’s car was also untouched as far as he could tell, which was a good thing, because he really wasn’t in the mood to go breaking skulls.

Dean got in and unlocked Sam’s door, popping in one of his favorite tapes as he started up the car, the familiar rumbling grown of his baby’s engine relaxing him as always.

“So, anyone else give you any trouble I should know about?” Dean asked, drumming his fingers to the beat of his music as he drove them towards the salvage yard. 

* * *

Sam was a little surprised when Dean wrapped his arm around his shoulder but realized it was for protection. Dean could control Sam's location, put Sam where he wanted him if something happened. Everyone seemed anxious to get the hell out of Dodge, and Sam was no exception. He hoped the week would get better and he would have fewer people trying to screw with him as people accepted he was Dean's territory. A big blowup between Eric and Dean was inevitable, Sam knew that, but hoped it was a ways off. Hoped that by then he could fight well enough to be a help rather than a hindrance to Dean.

Sam slipped into the seat and hook his seatbelt.

"No, no one messed with me except for those jerks in first period. And then Eric watching us. He's pissed as hell." Sam wasn't really pleased by that latter fact. He did like that he wasn't Eric's anymore, but Eric scared him. They way Eric had treated him in the car. If Eric ever caught hold of Sam by himself, he had a feeling Eric was more than a little done with trying to get Sam to come back to him. Eric would simply take what he wanted, no matter what Sam wanted.

"You're going to start teaching me to fight today, right?"

* * *

Dean gave a nod and noncommittal sound, both regarding the assholes that had bothered Sam earlier and the younger boy's comment regarding Eric. He would deal with the pricks from Sam's first class soon enough. Eric? He certainly didn't give a damn about the other man being pissed or not, but he certainly didn't like the way the other man was looking at Sam today. Dean knew he would have to deal with Eric eventually, for good, he just hadn't figured out how yet.

He wasn't all that surprised when Sam asked him about teaching him how to fight. The sooner the better in Dean's opinion, he just hadn't been sure if Sam would be feeling up to it yet.

"Yeah, I can, if that's what you want. If Bobby's not around I might have to do some work if some clients show up, but I can start teaching you some basics. I think we should start with how to break holds. Until you start learning how to kick people's asses, it's more important for you to know how to get away if you get caught."

Dean explained, giving a brief glance to the younger boy, not sure what Sam would think about his suggestion. So far, Sam had done pretty much everything he asked without complaint. Dean was fully prepared to teach Sam how to fight, and fight well. But knowing how to break someone's nose with one hit was useless if the younger boy got grabbed and couldn't get away from his attackers. If one asshole held Sam while the others wailed on him. Since the cowardly pricks liked to attack in packs, this was definitely an important skill to learn.

* * *

If that's what he wanted? Was Dean nuts? Of course he wanted to learn to fight. He was tired of being a punching bag. And he definitely wanted to be able to fight off Eric. The feeling of helplessness when Eric had him almost literally by the balls in the car, no he didn't ever want to feel that way again.

So if Dean's 'dad' wasn't around clients could show up and Dean would have to work. If Bobby was around…sounded like there wouldn’t be any after school making out. Really, that was okay. Sam had gotten quite a workout this morning. And he wasn't sure he wanted to get into a routine of morning and afternoon making out, afraid Dean would push for more too fast. Sure the senior said he could say no, but he didn't want to have to say no. He also wasn't at all ready to move further than they had. This was still so new and fresh, and Eric's attack on him was still a little fresh in his mind, too.

He honestly wished Eric was more like Dean. He had liked the guy Eric had pretended to be. Eric had been just awesome and best of friends, like a big brother or something. It could have all gone so differently if Eric had coaxed him into a physical relationship rather than trying to…rape…him. A guy getting raped. He knew it happened sometimes according to the news, but it just seemed odd to hear. He didn't know if Eric could have convinced him, but Eric probably could have sweet talked him into trying to kiss. If Eric kissed anything like Dean did, well damn, yeah he might have found himself wanting more. Just like he did with Dean.

He couldn't deny he was a little confused by Dean. If Dean was sponsoring him, shouldn't Sam be giving Dean all the pleasure instead of the other way around? Not that he minded in the least. The senior had been so perfect, so…gentlemanly. He glanced over at the youth and smirked. Who would have ever thought the bad-ass senior was so thoughtful and gentle and kind with his partners? So perfect…

He realized he still hadn't answered Dean's question.

"Yeah, I want to learn. Whatever you think is best. If you have to work part of the time, I can do homework. Maybe if you're working on one of your cars I can watch some. Cars really aren't my thing, but Dad loves them, so if it'll make him happy, I can try to at least learn the difference between a socket wrench and a screw driver. I bet it wouldn't take much of an excuse to get him working on that old car of his."

Sam bit off his next comment because he found himself getting ready to tell Dean a story about his dad and his car and Dean didn't care. Why should he? It was so hard to keep quiet. He wondered if his talking bothered Eric as much as it bothered Dean. Probably, he supposed. He leaned his head against the window, feeling depression swell in him. He would never have the picture perfect life his dad wanted for him. After making out with Dean, he wondered if he'd ever even…would he even ever have a 'normal' relationship, girl-guy sort of relationship, or would he find girls just weren't the same. And he would be stuck in the hateful school and he wondered what would happen to him when Dean graduated. Eric would too, of course, but there were plenty of other Eric's waiting on the sidelines.

He hated being quiet. Being quiet gave him too much time to think. He tried to focus on the rock music. Maybe he could lose himself in that.

* * *

“Alright.” Dean replied, giving Sam a small nod of approval. He was glad that the younger boy seemed so willing to do what he said, at least as far as training went. That would make things a hell of a lot easier. He hoped that would continue to be the case, especially when he actually started training the younger boy.

Dean snorted softly when Sam said he didn’t know the difference between a socket wrench and a screwdriver. He certainly wouldn’t mind showing Sam a few things about cars too, if that’s what the younger boy wanted. Though teaching Sam how to fight off his attackers and to watch his own back effectively was definitely his first priority.

Even as Dean thought about what he was going to show Sam today, he couldn’t help thinking about some of the other things (that had nothing to do with self defense) he would like to show the younger boy. Unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen. Not if Dean had to be ready to deal with any clients that dropped by, and if Bobby was around… Damn, and he was going to be showing Sam how to break various types of holds. That meant he would actually be _holding on_ to Sam, having that young lithe body rubbing up against him, so damned close… His dick twitched a little just thinking about it.

God damn it. Couldn’t he stop thinking about wanting to fuck Sam for a few minutes when he was alone with the younger boy? It probably didn’t help that they hadn’t been able to do anything, like he’d kind of hoped, during lunch. Then having to shower together during gym class… though Dean had been mostly focused on making sure no one gave Sam any trouble, he couldn’t deny how god damned gorgeous the younger boy looked naked and dripping wet… shit.

Dean glanced over at the younger boy when Sam grew quiet and he lifted an eyebrow. He’d swear Sam was pouting, but going over their conversation in his head Dean had no idea what it could be about. Yeah… Sam really was like a chick with PMS.

“What?” Dean finally demanded. 

* * *

Dean's snapped demand startled Sam. He sat up straight and looked over at the senior. He blinked at him, confused. He'd kept his words to a minimum hadn't he? Not saying anything, well hardly anything, that wasn't salient to the conversation and the day ahead.

"Uh, nothing?" Sam said, furrowing his brow. "I was just thinking. My brain thinks too much. Thinks too much a lot. Did I…did I say something out loud? I do sometimes and don't realize it." Sam bit his lip. "Did I say something wrong? Is it okay if I do homework while you work? I can do it at home. I don't have to do it there. Training should come first."

He looked at the handsome senior. They hadn't even gotten to kiss since this morning. Maybe…maybe he should be showing Dean some attention? He didn't want Dean angry with him. Dean still had on those tight pants and the outline of Dean's dick was…obvious. If he got Dean excited, those pants would be sheer agony and if the young man's dad was home, that would probably be a bad thing. Maybe he better just keep his hands to himself. And frankly he couldn't wait to peel off the damned school uniform and get into some comfortable clothes.

* * *

Dean gave Sam a brief quizzical look before turning his attention back to the road. The younger boy looked so damned confused, that Dean felt a little guilty over snapping at him. He hadn’t even meant to really, it had just come out sharper than he’d intended.

He shook his head.

“No, you didn’t say anything.” Dean reassured the younger boy in a softer tone. He wasn’t sure whether to tell Sam or not that Dean thought that _he_ had said or done something wrong to make Sam wear that bitch face. In the end he merely shrugged instead. “You were just making a face.”

Dean mimicked the expression that Sam had been wearing, though he stuck his lower lip out in a much more pronounced pout. He turned and gave the younger boy a teasing wink and smile then.

“You don’t need my permission to do your homework, Sam.” He told the younger boy, then turned back to the road again, and asked casually. “So, what were you thinking about?”

* * *

Dean seemed just as confused as Sam felt. His eyebrow lifted at the face Dean made. Did he really look like that? First Dean lets him hear what a whiney baby he sounded like the other night, and now this-this-pouty bitch looking face. He hung his head. God, no wonder he was never popular. He bet Dean would be popular at a regular school. Have his own posse of cool guys hanging out with him, a couple pretty girls drooling over him, happy to give him a hand job or blow job for an afternoon of attention. And targets like pouty Sam to pick on. He saw Dean's smile and wink, but it didn't make him feel any better. Dean was trying to tease him about it, but it was only so Sam wouldn't get all worked up about it. But if it was the truth it was the truth. What could you say or do except try not to do it again. Just like he had tried hard not to whine again. He would be more aware of himself, watch himself.

"Okay," Sam said quietly about doing his homework. That was good he guessed. He could get his homework done and when he got home he could do his chores and work on Dean's portfolio before going to bed.

Sam shrugged and started to make 'the face' again and instead made himself school his features. "Lots of things. Just whiney stupid stuff about my life. Nothin you'd really care about. When I don't talk, I think. Which is fine if I'm working on schoolwork. Sucks if I'm not."

* * *

If possible Sam seemed even more depressed now, and Dean sighed softly. Damn it. The younger boy was so damned touchy sometimes it was pretty irritating. What the hell did he really have to pout over today anyway? Hadn’t Dean done his job? He’d kept Sam from getting the shit kicked out of him. No one had really bothered the younger boy, if what Sam said was true. So what the hell was with the attitude?

“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have asked.” Dean finally said, a little bit of irritation slipping into his voice in spite of himself. Fine, if Sam wanted to sit there and pout over nothing, what the hell did he care? He shouldn’t. Sam apparently didn’t even want him to. So he wouldn’t.

The rest of the drive home was quiet, and Dean didn’t look at Sam anymore. When they pulled into the driveway of the salvage yard, he noticed that the tow truck was there this time, so that meant Bobby was home. Well, he supposed that was a good thing, it meant he could concentrate on teaching Sam without worrying about any customers that might come by. Even if it also meant he couldn’t even kiss…

Damn it. Professional, damn it.

Dean drove his car into the garage and got out, giving Rumsfeld a good scratch behind the ears when the excited dog ran up to him. He took the soggy ball that the dog had brought for him and gave it a good throw, laughing softly and shaking his head when Rumsfeld took off after it. It was amazing that canine seemed to know exactly what to do to put him in a better mood. Dean finally turned to look at Sam.

“I’m going to go change. You know where the bathroom is if you feel like changing.” Dean told the younger boy then headed towards the house. He saw Bobby working out in the yard and when the older man looked up he waved on his way inside. Dean quickly made his way to his bedroom and started stripping off his school clothes, throwing them over the back of the chair.

As he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants he remembered how Sam had said he could have them… because he looked good in them… and Dean couldn’t help but smile a little. Despite that fact though he wondered if he should return them anyway, they were a little on the too tight side, and if Sam was getting hand me down uniforms he probably couldn’t afford to be giving them away.

Dean was laying the pants over the back of the chair, deciding he’d return them, when he remembered he was also wearing Sam’s underwear… he wondered if Sam wanted those back too. The idea of Sam wearing them after he had was surprisingly kinky. 

* * *

If he didn't care he wouldn't ask? Sam almost snorted at that. Sam was just wallowing in self pity and he knew it. Dean didn't want to hear about his woe is me attitude. That would probably piss the senior off that much more. All the sudden changes in his life over the past week, it was all just kind of pounding him into the ground and he really didn't think Dean would get that. Sam felt like he was on a roller coaster careening around the tracks out of control. Fear, thrills, terror, ecstasy, confusion, everything, it all just seemed to hold him in its grip and he almost felt like he was drowning or choking in it all. He was more than content to accept the silence from the senior. Even if it meant it gave his brain that much more time to gnaw of more whiny petty crap.

Dean didn’t even look at him the rest of the way to the salvage yard. God, Sam was such a fucking loser. If he wasn't 'pretty,' Dean would probably have already had enough of him and shoved him out of the car, telling him to find some other sponsor. No whining, no pouting. He would try to be…okay, he had to figure out what Dean wanted him to be, someone that Dean would enjoy the company of. Cars weren't his thing but he would learn them. Maybe they could talk cars. Maybe Dean would like that. Maybe he could ask Bobby for some hints of how to get Dean to like him as more than just a good fuck.

He saw the tow truck. That meant he and Dean could do some training. Good. He smiled at the way Dean and the dog interacted. He had always wanted a pet. He had a turtle once. Not exactly an exciting pet. Sam grabbed his two backpacks and the coffee cake and followed Dean into the house waving at Bobby too.

Sam set his backpack with is books on the couch while Dean headed upstairs, then took the foil wrapped coffee cake into the kitchen and set it on the counter. He had to remember to tell Bobby about it and to give him the forty dollars his mom had given him to help pay for dinners and snacks.

He quickly changed into a t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes then hurried up the stairs to Dean's room. Dean's door was standing open and he froze in the doorway. Dean was naked except for his underwear. Underwear that was Sam's. He'd seen Dean in the shower in gym class and holy crap what a body. Yeah some of the other guys had good bodies but Dean's was his…

And now Dean was standing there in Sam's underwear. That underwear was a little tight…and Bobby was downstairs, but he was outside. They hadn't gotten to do anything at lunch…and he had upset Dean with his whiny attitude. He should make it up to Dean. He really should.

He walked into the room and right up to Dean. Wrapping his arms around Dean he pulled him into a kiss, slipping his tongue inside Dean's mouth just the way Dean did to him, then began walking Dean backwards until the back of Dean's legs were at the bed.

 

* * *

He was letting himself become too damned distracted by Sam. That was Dean’s first thought when he heard the floor board creek behind him. He should have heard the other boy coming down the hall. Instead he barely had time to turn before Sam was _right there_ behind him. His self rebukes ended rather quickly when he found himself suddenly with an armful of Sam. The younger boy’s arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him down into a heated kiss, and Dean couldn’t help but moan into Sam’s mouth.

His lips parted eagerly for the younger boy’s tongue and his arms wound their way around Sam’s waist with little thought on his part. Holding Sam pressed close to him as the other boy’s tongue wove its way into his mouth, twining around his tongue, Dean’s dick couldn’t help but sit up and take notice. All of Dean’s previous thoughts of ‘professionalism’ and the things they couldn’t do since Bobby was here flying out the window pretty damned quickly when he felt the back of his knees hit his bed. Realizing Sam had pushed him there, and damn if that didn’t practically make him hard all at once.

Well, if this was where Sam wanted him, who was he to refuse? He sat down on the edge of his bed, pulling the younger boy down with him to straddle his thighs.

“Jesus Sam…” Dean panted against the younger boy’s lips. Slipping his hands underneath the back of Sam’s shirt and running his palms slowly over the length of the younger boy’s back. They really _really_ shouldn’t be doing this. What if Bobby came in? Saw them? Fuck, his door was wide open. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Sam to stop. Not when he’d been aching to touch the younger boy all fucking day. 

* * *

Sam grinned at Dean. "What? You can't tell me you haven't wanted to kiss me since gym class. Or run your hands over me. I saw the way you looked at me. And just for the record, in the car, I was just whining to myself about stupid shit like what happens to me after you graduate, and…well if I'll ever want to sleep with a girl, well I will, but you know, I don't know how it's going to be after me and you…" he felt the slight blush color his cheeks. "See, just stupid whiny shit and fears."

He hugged Dean closer, enjoying the older boy's hands running up and down his back as he buried his face in Dean's neck. Damn Dean smelled good. He ran his own hands over Dean's muscular back. "I'm trying hard not to whine or drive you up the wall with stupid stories. I know I've been lucky about a lot of things and shouldn't be all tied up in knots, but right now my life is pretty fucked up and I'm not dealing real well with it."

He sat back and stared into Dean's eyes. "You confuse the hell out of me. I never ever would have thought I'd want to kiss a guy. Or that I'd find a guy's body attractive. Or that I'd admire a guy's ass stuffed into pants a size too small. I'm still feeling…weird about, you know, touching you." Dean's hard erection was plain as day pressing against him. "About touching your…cock. It's just all coming at me so fast. Going from being popular to having half the school out to get me. To having you as my bodyguard. To making out with you."

He kissed Dean long and slow, trying hard to do it the way Dean had done that morning. He ground his hips down, knowing how good it would feel for Dean, feeling his own hardening shaft growing needy for pressure and groaning into the older youth's mouth. He finally broke the kiss.

"Sorry if I'm moody, okay?" He ran his fingers through Dean's hair then stroked Dean's cheek with the back of his fingers. He caressed and traced the lines and structure of the senior's face. "God, you make me so fucking hot and that just confuses me more," he murmured.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Sam’s grin and the younger boy’s words. Kiss him since gym class? How about kiss him since Sam had left him nearly breathless back at that old warehouse.

No, he couldn’t really deny how he’d wanted to touch, kiss, and fuck Sam all damned day. Gym class… oh yeah, he’d looked. How could he not? With the younger boy standing there next to him, close enough to touch and not being able to, all that naked and wet skin… practically torture. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of Sam’s slick nude body and it was all Dean could do not to sprout an impressive boner right there in front of everyone.

Dean was a little surprised when Sam finally admitted what he’d been thinking about in the car. He supposed it was understandable for the younger boy to be a little worried about what would happen to him once Dean had graduated, but that was so far off right now. Sam should be more worried about what would happen in the next several weeks. But hopefully once Dean had ‘laid the groundwork’ so to speak, most people who still went to that school would still leave Sam alone once Dean was gone. Those that wouldn’t, hopefully Sam would be fully capable of taking care of himself by then.

The young man was a little more surprised by Sam’s next admitted fear though. That Sam was worried that he might not want to fuck a girl after this? Dean didn’t know whether to be amused or flattered by that. But he could see why Sam would feel so confused, especially if the younger boy didn’t really have much of an interest in men before…

That bothered Dean a little bit. The idea that he might be _forcing_ Sam to be gay, or bi, or whatever, when the younger boy didn’t really want… But Sam admitted he found him attractive. Liked his kisses… well, Dean knew he was a pretty damned good kisser. The older boy’s lips twitched a little when Sam admitted he liked his ass stuffed into those too tight pants of his.

He couldn’t help but moan when Sam kissed him, and rubbed against him. Dean simply let the younger boy take control of it. His fingers tightened a little on the younger boy’s hips but he didn’t ask for more, no matter how much he might want it. Though he couldn’t quite stop the small sound of complaint that escaped his lips when Sam pulled back a little.

Dean nodded a little at Sam’s apology, even though the younger boy didn’t really need to apologize for anything. He was probably so confused to begin with because Dean was pushing too hard, and he had to stop that. Though when Sam admitted that Dean made him ‘hot’ the older boy couldn’t help but grin again and chuckle softly. Lifting one hand to run his fingers gently through the younger boy’s hair while Sam touched his face. Yeah, it was a little girly, but that was ok right now he supposed. Maybe now was a good time to suggest to Sam what he’d been thinking about? Since Sam was obviously so worried about his sexual preference.

“You know, I was thinking. If you want to know what it’s like to fuck a girl for your first time, that’s fine. We could go to a bar sometime for some drinks, pick up a girl, get a motel room for a few hours, and have a really fun time.” Dean grinned, brushing his fingers over Sam’s blushing cheek. “You’re so damned cute when you blush. But seriously, there are tons of hot chicks that would love to pop your cherry. Hell, plenty that would love to do us both. What do you think?”

* * *

Sam listened to Dean's suggestion with shock. Him? Go out to a bar? Talk to a girl? Have sex with some girl? In a bar, then she'd be like twenty or something. He was only 16! Hell, his voice had only changed 2 years ago. He'd never pass himself off as old enough to be in a bar. And go to a motel room where you paid by the hour? Like was like out of some cheap x-rated flick. Dean's comment about his blush just made him blush more.

Hot chicks that would want to relieve him of his virginity? Yeah. Sure. Dean would be the one picking them up, convincing them to 'pop Sam's cherry.' They wouldn't look twice at the geek. And the three of them? Having sex? That was what a ménage a troi wasn't it? A threesome? But he said she would be doing them both and that was…did that make her a slut?

Sam wasn't really sure what to think. He really liked the idea that his first time having sex, going all the way, would be with a girl. And maybe it would be a good thing if the girl were experienced, show him what it was really like. Not some inexperienced hands touching him, unsure. Like he was unsure when he touched Dean.

"I would like to …do it with a girl first," Sam admitted. Completely serious, he said, "I know they can't card me if I don't order alcohol. But Dean, I'm…I'm a geek. I've always been a geek and pretty much a loser. They'll want to do you, you're smoking. Me? They won't look at me twice unless you paid them." He ran his fingers over Dean's lips. "Don't think I'm a prude or crap, okay? I'm just, fuck, I just keep finding out more and more how naïve I am. If a girl wants to do us both, have a threesome…is that…normal? I mean, is she a," he hesitated, "slut?" he asked softly, not liking using that word. "Or do I have to worry about, you know, catching anything? Hollywood, that's the way they make it seem. Women like that are sluts or prostitutes and you'll get something from them, and they do drugs and crap. I know that's just all wrong, right? That's not the way it really is, right?"  


* * *

  


Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the expression on Sam’s face, which was bordering between disbelief and horrified at his suggestion. If the younger boy blushed any more he was afraid Sam might just spontaneously combust.

He could practically see the gears whirling out of control in Sam’s head. Really, the younger boy thought way too much sometimes. If they did do this he was going to have to make sure Sam had a few drinks before they actually picked up the girl. Just to make sure Sam was as relaxed as possible so he could just enjoy himself rather waste all his time thinking.

“Don’t worry about them carding you. I can make you a fake ID no problem, I have a feeling you’re going to need a few drinks anyway to help you relax.” Dean teased the younger boy gently, brushing his fingers across Sam’s blushing cheek again.

“Don’t sell yourself so damned short. You’re hardly a troll, Sammy. You may be a geek, but you’re a ‘smoking hot’ geek.” The older boy chuckled softly. “You just need to be more confident. Besides, you’ve also got that cute innocent virgin thing happening and believe it or not, that’s pretty damned sexy. There are plenty of hot chicks who would just love to show you the right way to please a woman, trust me.”

Dean’s expression grew a little more serious.

“If you don’t want me to be there, that’s fine. I just thought you’d be more comfortable, and I could show you some things too… and it would really be hot, but if you go solo that’s fine. But just cause a lady likes to have a good time, don’t make her a slut, Sam. Some people just like sex more than others and aren’t ashamed to admit it. As far as protection goes, you should definitely always wear a condom whenever you fuck someone, or if someone fucks you. Unless you know the person, trust them, and are sure they’re clean. I’ve got plenty of condoms, so no worries there, and I wouldn’t let you go home with a ‘slut’, Sammy. So, just think about it. Lemme know one way or another.”

Having said his peace, Dean tugged Sam close to kiss him again quick and hot before pulling back again with a grin.

“Now, before Bobby decides to check on us and gives me a serious case of blue balls, we never did get to let you watch me jerk off before. Want to watch now, Sammy?” 

* * *

"How come I'm not surprised you can make me a fake ID?" Sam said, amused. He was sure Dean was right, he probably couldn't even talk to a girl without turning three shades of red, at least not some 'hot' chick, the type that would be way more interested in Dean. He did laugh at Dean's comment about being a "smoking hot geek." That was surely an oxymoron if ever he heard one. And then he went from being smoking hot to be a cute virgin. He preferred the smoking hot description, even if it was a lie.

Go solo? That's the way it was done, right? Or supposed to be done. You didn't see two guys going out, picking up a girl, and the first guy showing the second guy how to make love to a girl. That was lame. …Then again, it was kind of like Star Trek's holodeck playing three-d porn. Accent on the three. Dean would know if the girl was the type Sam should stay away from. He blushed a bit brighter when Dean mentioned condoms. He'd never even ever tried to put one on. Okay, may he'd tried but just couldn't get it right, too high, too tight, ripped.

"I'm all for the girl thing," Sam finally said with a nod. "I dunno about the ménage a trios thing. I'll have to think about that. I mean, it seems kind of embarrassing and pathetic, you having to show me how to make love to a girl. I can't even get a condom on right."

Sam welcomed the kiss, Dean's offer twirling dizzily in his head. Maybe this weekend he could not be a virgin anymore? That was almost mind boggling. But he had confidence Dean would pick a nice girl for Sam's first.

Tilting his head a little Sam kind of shrugged. "I, uh, I guess I don't get why I'd get off on watching you jerk yourself off. But okay. Didn't think I'd like kissing you either. And it was really…weird tasting 'me' when we kissed this morning, you know, after you gave me the, uh, blow job. I'm still not sure…I think I'd still rather have strawberry shortcake for my dessert," Sam said with a smirk.

He eyed Dean a little evilly then practically pounced on Dean, pushing him back onto the bed and kissing him as hot as he possible could. He finally broke off, panting, feeling his own dick complaining. He grinned at Dean before rolling off of him. "Thought you might like some encouragement. Okay. Jerk off for me," Sam said.

* * *

Dean only realized after Sam said something that maybe he shouldn’t have been so casual about admitting to the younger boy that he could easily whip him up a fake ID. Damn it. There he went thinking with his dick again. But at least Sam hadn’t freaked out or anything about it, just took it in stride.

When the younger boy went on to say he was all for them going out and picking up a girl together, Dean couldn’t help but grin, pleased that Sam was willing to… then the younger boy continued and he felt his elation fade. Oh… Sam was all for Dean helping him to pick up a girl, but not for them to pick up a girl together.

Dean knew he shouldn’t be… disappointed, but he was.

Embarrassing… pathetic… and here he was hoping Sam would be excited by the idea of watching him with a woman. Of Dean showing him how it was done… Hell, he’d practically offered Sam a free live porn show. What horny teenager wouldn’t enjoy something like that? Wouldn’t that be the normal reaction if Sam really thought he was ‘hot’? But no, Sam was only interested in the potential ‘chick’ that Dean might pick out for him.

Dean had only suggested it in the first place because he’d hoped if Sam watched him, participated, maybe he wouldn’t be so nervous about letting Dean touch him. Sam didn’t even know ‘why’ he might get off watching him masturbate for him? The answer would be pretty obvious if Sam was at all interested in him, but if he wasn’t…

He was surprised when the younger boy suddenly kissed him hard. His lips parting without much thought for Sam’s seeking tongue, a grunt escaping his lips into Sam’s when the younger boy pushed him back against the bed. The distraction was definitely a welcome one. Especially given the downward spiraling of his thoughts… now who was being the girl?

Fine. Sam wanted to know why he should like watching him get off? Dean would give him a show. One that the younger boy would remember, and hopefully, want an encore of.

Returning the younger boy’s smirk, Dean made himself comfortable. His knees bent and hanging off the edge of the bed but the rest of him relaxed against the comforter underneath him. Dean’s eyes met and held Sam’s as he let his legs slide apart a little more. Showing off the already prominent bulge of his erection barely contained by the underwear he was wearing. Sam’s underwear.

Dean let both of his hands come to rest on his stomach. Sliding them up slowly along his abs to his chest, pinching his own nipples and moaning, he licked his lips. His eyes falling half closed, though he still watched the younger boy through his dark eyelashes. He kept playing with his nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, lifting his hips in little undulating motions, his dick straining even more against the thin material of the briefs.

One of his hands moved back down while the other continued to lightly caress the hard peaked nipple. Moving back down over his stomach to run his fingers lightly up and down over his straining shaft. His dick twitched a little in response to his own teasing touch, straining for more against its trapped confines, a damp spot appearing through the underwear where it fought to get free. He slid his fingers inside the underwear through the side, repeating the teasing caresses along the length of his dick. The outline of his fingers moving over his cock barely concealed by Sam’s underwear.

* * *

He could tell Dean was disappointed. Well, dammit, this was like he stepped into a whole fucking new world. His life was one of doing homework and helping around the house. Reading books and watching TV. Sure he and his buddies did the porn surf, and yeah, he had jacked himself off to Playboy and thoughts of Stacy or Amanda and…Michelle. The cheerleader Michelle. God, so gorgeous. Unfortunately, she was the type that really did give blonds a bad name. Dumb as a box of rocks. Smart enough to get A's in her classes if the teachers were guys or if she couldn't get them, she'd con some geek into doing her homework, so not entirely stupid in a lot of ways.

He sat back, not sure what to expect from Dean. He kind of figured Dean would sit on the edge of the bed, grab his dick and go to town. Dean wasn't talking about jerking off though, he meant the whole… oh. Damn. As if he wasn't already hard enough. His eyes trailed down to the tight bulge in his— _his_ —underwear that Dean was still in. He forced himself to look away as Dean's hands travelled up his chest. He was startled when Dean moaned. God, he tried not to make a sound, horrified by the idea his parents would hear him. Even when he was alone, he was kind of embarrassed by some of the sounds he made. When he was full out jacking off, not so much so, but when he was just touching himself, teasing himself, he tried to stay quiet. And he'd never touched his nipples. You did that to girls, not guys. But he'd discovered he was most definitely wrong about that.

He watched Dean's tongue sweep over his lips, making them glisten invitingly. Dean's nipples had grown hard and Sam wanted to run his wet tongue over them, blow across them and make them even harder. His gaze immediately shifted back to the senior's groin when Dean's hand was inside his underwear, lightly running his fingers over it and it was all Sam could do not to take hold of his own cock. The little wet spot he saw on the cloth was suddenly mirrored in his own pants. He shifted as his pants were beginning to get damned binding on him.

Okay, Dean definitely had his attention.

* * *

Dean’s lips curved up into a seductive smile, definitely pleased by the lust building in the younger boy’s eyes as Sam watched him play with himself. The younger boy’s eyes trailing up and down his body, following the motions of his hands intently. Obviously enjoying the show. Once he was satisfied that Sam was fully focused on him and only him, not thinking about how what it would be like to bang some random chick for his first time, the fun could really start.

Yeah, Dean knew he shouldn’t really be taking his time with this. Bobby was right outside for Christ sake. The older man could come inside at any minute, and it would be damned hard to explain what they’d been doing all this time. Especially considering they were both hard and Dean was practically naked, and he’d gone through great lengths to make sure Bobby didn’t know he was Bi in the first place.

It was stupid. Risky… and somehow that just made it even more exciting. How fucked up was that?

But the danger of being caught literally with his pants down didn’t stop Dean from continuing his slow tease, of both himself and Sam by the looks of the impressive tent forming in the younger boy’s jeans. Dean cupped his balls, squeezing and rolling them in his hand as he pinched his nipple hard, hissing through his teeth.

“Sammy…” Dean groaned the younger boy’s name low in his throat as he arched his neck. Pulling his hand free from the underwear and finally releasing his over sensitive nipples to hook both of his thumbs in the waistband of the tight briefs. He lifted his hips as he pushed the underwear down over his straining erection to bunch at his upper thighs, his eyes never leaving Sam’s, as his freed cock slapped against his stomach. He was so damned hard… just from Sam watching him…

He curled his fingers of his right hand around his shaft and began to slowly stroke himself. Sliding his hand up and down the entire length of his shaft just the way he liked it. Squeezing himself on the upstrokes. Letting his thumb play around the crown and over the weeping slit for both his and Sam’s enjoyment as more moans spilled with greater frequency from his lips.

His breathing began to pick up as he started to strip his cock faster. His hips bucking off the bed as he began to fuck into his fist and he moaned Sam’s name again, imagining it was Sam’s fingers curled around his weeping cock instead of his own. 

* * *

Sam just couldn't take his eyes off Dean, the way Dean moved, the way he teased himself, the moans he made. A small groan slipped out of Sam when Dean was cupping his own balls, playing with them, rolling them and squeezing them.

He jumped when he heard his name slipped from Dean's lips, arching up the way Sam had when Dean had been playing with his nipples, the way Dean had when Sam had sucked on Dean's nipples. Dean said his name the way Sam had groaned Dean's name jacking off in the shower, Jesus, just that morning? That desire, the wish, that he would give anything if Dean were there, doing these things to him instead of having to do them to himself.

A small gasp escaped Sam when Dean's huge erect cock was fully exposed. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit was Dean big. Seeing a flaccid cock in a shower, that was one thing. Seeing this very impressive steel hard cock, skin pulled tight, veins clearly showing. He watched in utter fascination as Dean made love to his own cock. Sam had never taken the time to really feel himself that way, to explore himself that way. He usually got a boner for whatever reason and took care of it. Sometimes at night he would tease himself hard and maybe play a little but nothing at all like this.

When Dean began to pump faster, pump harder, the bed creaking softly as Dean fucked into his own hand, Sam felt himself just get even harder. Dean's moan of his name damn near broke him. Watching porn, they don't groan your name. Hell, in porno flicks they usually didn't groan anyone's name, they just groaned. But this was Dean and Dean was thinking of him. He finally couldn't stand it anymore and had to release himself from his tight binding pants. His underwear was already dampened with his own precome. He knew Dean was watching, knew Dean saw what the senior was doing to him.

"Fuck," Sam whispered as he wrapped his own hand around his cock, switching from sitting on his knees to kneeling. His hand caught up quickly in pace to Dean's and his hips thrust forward even as Dean's thrust up. Remembering Dean's lips wrapped around him that morning, h whispered the senior's name, wishing Dean's mouth was on him now.

* * *

Watching Sam getting off on watching him was pushing him closer to the edge faster than his hand on his cock. Dean watched hungrily as Sam freed himself from his jeans. The younger boy taking out his cock and stroking him in time with his own hand moving on his straining flesh. God, what he wouldn’t give to have Sam’s hands wrapped around his cock, or better yet, his mouth. But he’d settle for just Sam touching him. Stroking his cock as eagerly to bring him off as Sam was touching himself.

Soon... he hoped. Small steps. If Sam was enjoying watching him so much, maybe next time he’d want to actually be the one to touch him, to make him moan, to bring him off...

“Fuck, Sam... so hot...” Dean whispered, panting harder. Shit he was close. It wouldn’t take much more...

Dean brought his free hand to his lips and sucked two of his fingers into his mouth with a groan. Moaning around and sucking on them like he wished he was sucking on Sam’s cock. Getting them thoroughly wet before pulling them from his mouth with an obscene pop.

Holding Sam’s gaze he dropped his hand back down to his groin, caressing and squeezing his balls as he stroked his cock even faster. His moans spilling even louder as he spread his legs even more and he let his wet fingers slip behind his balls to push inside of himself.

“Oh fuck, yeah... Sam... god...” Dean groaned, fucking up into his hand and down onto his fingers. 

* * *

Sam watched as the senior sucked his fingers into his mouth and Sam groaned, wishing it was his dick Dean had inside his mouth instead of his own fingers. So sucking on your fingers was…erotic? Maybe next he'd try. Or maybe he would suck on Dean's fingers. The way Dean moaned there must be something to it since Dean hadn't been wrong yet. Okay except maybe the licking up their come. He still wasn't sure he wouldn't puke if he tried that. The taste of himself had been…okay.

When Dean spread his legs wider then-then-then pushed those obscenely wet fingers up his own ass Sam's eyes widened, almost bugging out. Okay, yeah, he knew eventually Dean would want to shove his dick up Sam's ass, he just never figured the youth would stick his own fingers up there. If Dean put his own fingers up inside him…then did that mean it felt…good? How would that feel good?

Okay he was just too close to coming to investigate and he really would rather investigate in private, just like sucking on his fingers and stuff. If Dean hadn't completely worn him out by then, maybe he would experiment a little tonight.

Watching Dean pump up and down on himself, it was almost embarrassing but so fucking hot too. The senior's groaning inflamed his own lust and without meaning to, Dean's name slipped from him as he balls drew up and he shot hot spunk across the bed and some all the way onto Dean's chest.

* * *

Dean would have laughed at the way Sam’s eyes practically fell out of his head while the younger boy watched him finger fuck himself if he wasn’t so close to blowing his load any second. Sure, Sam was surprised, but he was also obviously completely turned on, which only made Dean hotter too. Christ, he almost couldn’t believe he was getting off on this so much and they weren’t even touching each other. At the same time it was probably the most intimate thing they’d done yet.

When Sam finally moaned his name and came, the younger boy’s hot spunk splashing across him, Dean was pretty much gone. He curled his fingers inside of himself, rubbing over his prostate hard, and he bucked with a gasp as he came as well. His come joining Sam’s as he spilled over his own chest and stomach, shuddering.

“Oh fuck… fuck… Sam…” Dean whispered as he milked himself dry. Finally releasing his cock and pulling his fingers free from himself as he lay there spent. Christ, he couldn’t believe he’d done that, with his door fucking wide open too. He probably looked like the very picture of sinful lust right now. A pleased smile curved his lips.

“So… I take it you liked that?” 

* * *

Sam couldn't say anything for a minute. He stared at the senior's long muscular body stretched out on the bed. Glistening white come, their come, glazed his chest and stomach. The young man's eyes were half closed his breath coming in soft pants. Sam wanted to look around just to make sure he wasn't on some hidden camera and that maybe Dean and Bobby really did porn in that secret room downstairs and this was just a screen test.

Sam finally nodded. "It wasn't what I expected," he admitted and added. "At all. It was a lot…hotter than I expected. I guess I've never explored my body like that. And sorry I got you," he cheeks colored, "caught in the spray. I don't normally…uhm, my range isn't usually, you know, quite so far. I kinda made a mess of your bed, too. Sorry."

After a moment of hesitation he slipped his softening cock back inside his pants. "So the fingers…I've never, that was…new," he said somewhere between curious and cautious.

Sinking back to his knees and shifting a little uncomfortably Sam said softly, "I don't know what…" He huffed. "If you were a girl, I'd pull you up against my shoulder, kiss you and just sit there with you a minute, you know until it was cool that we moved on to something else like music or munchies or whatever, or started making out again. I," Sam ran his hands up and down the denim on his thighs. "I don't know what to do here, now, with you. If I get up and go wash my hands or get something to drink or whatever, you'll think I didn't like it. I did. If I sit here doing nothing, I kind of feel awkward. If I lean over to kiss you like I kind of want to…this is the only t-shirt I brought and Bobby might wonder why I'm wearing one of your shirts."

Sam stared at Dean hopefully, looking for guidance. He didn't' want to upset Dean but he really just didn't know how to handle it. He'd never gotten this far with a girl but he'd seen in the movies what a guy did. What the hell did a guy do with a guy after this sort of making out?

* * *

Yeah, Dean was way more pleased with himself than he probably should be right now, but he couldn’t really help it anymore than he could wipe the stupid grin off his face as Sam admitted how much he’d liked what they’d just done. Though he raised an eyebrow a bit when Sam admitted that he hadn’t even touched _himself_ like that before… seriously? How the hell did the younger boy jerk off then? Did he even jerk off? Of course he did. What teenage boy didn’t? Dean had never thought there was a way to jerk off wrong, but Sam might be pretty darn close.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly when Sam apologized for coming on him and his bed.

“Don’t worry about it, Sammy. I needed to wash the sheets anyway.” He told the younger boy as he grabbed the edge of his top sheet and started wiping himself down.

Though he looked up at Sam again in a bit of surprise when the younger boy admitted he wasn’t sure what to do now. It sounded like Sam wanted to… cuddle… or something. Or maybe he thought that was what he would want? Dean wasn’t really the cuddling type. Considering nearly all of his encounters involved one night stands, back alley blowjobs, quick and dirty, in and out without all the rest of the complicated bullshit that went with it.

Before Sam…

Now munchies? Yeah, that he could go for. Or another make out session, unfortunately they probably didn’t have much time left before Bobby caught them in a compromising position. Though the way Sam was looking at him, wide eyed and so hopeful, made a warm spot blossom in his chest and he couldn’t help but smile again. Dean finished wiping himself off quickly and sat up, cupping the back of Sam’s neck he leaned in for a quick tender kiss.

“I’m glad you liked it. I told you before, though, you don’t have to do anything.” Dean smiled again as he released the younger boy. “Go on. You know where the bathroom is. Feel free to wash your hands or whatever. Lemme get cleaned up and I’ll join you in the kitchen. Feel free to raid the cupboards while you wait, and then we can go out and start training.”

* * *

He couldn't deny he was relieved when Dean didn't seem to expect him to do anything. It was hard for him to believe the party at his house had just been the night before. The senior's kiss was so very tender and loving, it just made him feel all warm and cherished. He nodded and pushed himself off the bed, heading to the downstairs bathroom, to wash up.

After he had washed his hands and face, he headed into the kitchen. He found some potato chips and dip, but he also found some apples. If they were going to train, he figured an apple might be better than junk food. He also knew that Dean would probably find it funny, but he didn't care. Though he did eat about four chocolate chip cookies before he began eating his apple. He wandered around the living room looking at the titles of different books. He didn't want to get apple juice or anything on them so he didn't touch. Such a strange eclectic set of books. He wondered about the rumors again. Looking over the books spread out on the desk in the den, they were mostly about werewolves and some sticky notes had bits and pieces of strange comments jotted on them.

Hearing Dean upstairs, he headed back into the kitchen. He wondered what the training would be like. Would Dean make him do push ups and sit ups and crap? Well, whatever, he'd do it. So long as it helped him survive. That was one thing his parents had taught him. Practicality.

* * *

Dean watched the younger boy go. A smile still playing on his lips, glad that Sam seemed a lot more relaxed now, then he forced himself to get up. He stripped off Sam’s underwear then got dressed in his own clothes he usually wore when training. Tossing Sam’s underwear on top of the pants he’d wore today he was almost looking forward to asking the younger boy when he wanted them back. Just to see the blush he was sure would stain Sam’s pretty cheeks.

He quickly stripped the sheets off of his bed, once again glad that it was his turn to do laundry this week. He brought them downstairs with him and tossed them in the washing machine on the way to the kitchen.

When he saw Sam biting into an apple, a bit of juice dribbling down his chin from his mouth, Dean bit off a groan. This was really getting out of control. But it seemed like everything Sam did, even when the younger boy wasn’t even trying, Dean found sexy as hell.

Dean smiled as he walked up to the younger boy and used his thumb to wipe off the apple juice from Sam’s face, then stuck it in his own mouth to suck it clean. Bobby. Bobby was just outside and could come in any minute. Dean was actually a little surprised that the older man hadn’t come in to see what they were up to already. Dean forced himself to put a little more distance between them.

Business before pleasure.

“So, I usually start off with running a few laps to warm up. We can work on building up your strength and endurance at the same time. Then I can start showing you the easiest ways to throw off your attackers if they get their hands on you. Just warning you Sam, I don’t plan on going easy with you, because they won’t either. You ready?” 

* * *

Sam gave Dean a nod when he joined him in the kitchen. He was a little surprised when Dean reached out and wiped away the dribble of juice he felt at the corner of his mouth. Watching Dean clean it from his thumb and seeing the look on Dean's face, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

"Dude, I think you need more cold showers than I do," he said with a grin.

He pushed himself to his feet and finishing off the last few bites of the apple, he looked at Dean and slowly licked each finger clean of the sticky juice, knowing what it would do to the older youth. He finally went over to the sink and rinsed his hands clean of the stickiness then turned back to the senior.

"Okay, let's got to it. I've got pretty good endurance as far as running goes. I can do a mile in about thirteen minutes. Faster if I really have too. But I don't usually go much more than a mile or two."

At Dean's warning Sam gave a nod. "Wouldn't be much point in it if you pulled your punches. All I ask is you give me some time to practice what you teach me before we start, what's it called, sparring? And if you can, go a little easy on hitting me on my back? I'm still a little bruised."

He pushed open the door and walked outside. It was a decent day, clear skies and warm without being hot. Though he might re-evaluate that once they got running.

* * *

Dean snorted softly at Sam’s teasing words and rolled his eyes a little when the younger boy proceeded to tease him in a completely different way. Watching Sam sucking on his fingers, licking them clean… Yup. He was creating a monster. Dean couldn’t help feeling a little proud at that thought.

When Sam said he was ready, Dean nodded. One or two miles huh? Well, they’d do two then for starters. He wanted to push Sam but he didn’t want to wear the younger boy out completely. Not on just the warm up at least. Eventually he wanted to push Sam up to doing about five miles effortlessly.

He gave the younger boy another nod of understanding when Sam asked him to avoid hitting his back. Even though Dean wasn’t planning on hitting Sam at all, at least not today, though depending on how fast the younger boy picked this up he might teach Sam some throws today too. That didn’t mean that the younger boy wouldn’t be sore as hell trying to get free of his holds. Sam didn’t have nearly the muscle mass yet that Dean had. But he would, eventually.

“Alright. Let’s go then.” Dean said and followed Sam back outside. He waved to Bobby again as he led Sam around the junkyard to the start of his ‘track’. There he started doing a few stretches to loosen his muscles up. “Try to keep pace with me. If you can’t, let me know and we’ll slow up a bit.”

With that, Dean started to run. Checking over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure that Sam was keeping up with his slightly longer stride. When it seemed the younger boy wasn’t having much trouble, Dean sped up, mentally keeping track of their laps as they ran. 

* * *

Sam waved at Bobby too and followed Dean. He was glad Dean stretched out first, but that also told him they weren't doing a couple simple laps like in gym. When Dean set a good pace, Sam was doing all right keeping up, then Dean picked up the pace. Well crap.

He stretched his legs to lengthen his stride, watching for obstacles. The running path wasn't exactly smooth and free of things like rocks and branches and chunks of old cars or washing machines. He focused on the path watching for anything that might trip him up, but quickly found he had to watch the senior too. The senior would slow down and speed up for no apparent reasons. Once Dean had gotten well ahead of him before he had realized it. Another time Sam damned near ran him over.

By the time Dean finally brought them back around to the salvage yard Sam was panting pretty hard and sweat was trickling down his face. He wasn't ready to collapse or anything, but given another mile or two and he might consider it. He was definitely glad he hadn't eaten the salty chips. He was thirsty after the run but he wasn't going to say anything. If Dean said he could have water, then he would, if not, then he wouldn't. Wasn't like he'd be able to hold up his finger in the middle of a fight and say "time out, stop beating my brains out, I need some water." So he kept quiet and stretched out his legs. His muscles weren't burning, but they were going to be sore. He was pleased when he saw Dean lead him on a walk around the yard, giving his muscles a chance to cool down so his legs weren't going to be as sore as they would be otherwise. Dean led him back to an open sort of grassy area.

The next thing Sam knew was his arm was twisted behind him and an arm was around his throat. The hold wasn't painful but definitely firm. Sam didn't do anything for a moment, considering how Dean held him. He finally gave a small shake of his head.

"Everything I tried before didn't get me out of this." He pulled at Dean's arm. Dean was too strong. He elbowed Dean in the ribs hard, though not hard enough to bruise. The senior didn't even flinch.

"Okay Jedi master, your student needs help," Sam said, struggling a little, shifting his weight, trying to find a weakness.

* * *

Dean was generally pleased at how Sam was able to keep up with him when they ran, though the younger boy could definitely benefit from keeping a closer eye on his surroundings. Not only as far as making sure he didn’t get jumped in the first place, but also making sure he didn’t get hurt by stupid shit. One of the reasons why Sam’s knee had been so messed up before was because the younger boy had obviously knocked it on something when he fell. That probably could have been avoided, or at least the damage lessened, if Sam had been paying attention to how he fell.

After they’d completed the two miles he took Sam around one more time to cool down and let the younger boy have a breather. At least Sam didn’t seem to be all that winded which was a good thing. Then he took the younger boy to the place he and Bobby used to spar.

He didn’t give Sam any real warning before he put the younger boy into a headlock, but not giving him any direction on how to get out of it. Dean wanted to see what Sam knew, or didn’t know. He wanted to see what Sam was doing wrong before he showed him the right way.

Dean couldn’t help but snort softly at Sam’s words.

“Well, your Jedi Master says quit wiggling around like that unless your aim is just to give your attacker a serious woody.” He told the younger boy as he easily shifted to avoid another elbow to his gut. “Second. You’re not using everything available to you to get out of this. You could be stomping on my feet, kicking me in the knees, hitting me in the balls, or head butting me.”

“But since I don’t really want a broken nose or my nuts cracked I’ll show you what else you can do. Right now I’ve got your center of balance all fucked up, you’ve got no leverage, and if I tighten my arm around your neck you’ll pass out in a minute or two. What you need to do is grab my arm and bend your knees to drop your body weight. It’ll keep me from choking you and throw me off balance. Keep a hold of my elbow as you go down and turn your body in the opposite direction and you’ll throw me over your shoulder. Try it now.” 

* * *

"A woody is the last thing I want to give them," Sam said and stilled. "Yeah they've always managed to keep me off balance and when I've tried to do anything I didn't seem to hurt them. I guess that no leverage part."

Sam pictured in his mind what Dean told him to do. His mom had always taught him form was most important. Take the time, learn it right and then when you had to do it fast, it came as second nature and you did it right. He placed his hands on Dean's arm testing where he thought would be the best places to grab hold and keep hold. Once he felt he had the best places to hang on to, he suddenly bent his knees and twisted, pulling hard. He was honestly shocked when he succeeded in throwing the larger teen over his shoulder. He nearly went tumbling on top of the teen and before he had a chance to regain his own balance, Dean swept his feet out from under him. He yelped in surprise but rolled away as best he could. When Dean grabbed his ankle, he landed a kick in Dean's chest. Dean's hold loosened and he managed to pull his leg free. He scrabbled to get away, but Dean was right back on him, had his arm twisted behind him again and had him pinned to the ground.

"Crap," Sam muttered. Weight and counterweight. With that thought in mind he wrapped one leg over Dean's and shoving with his free hand managed to roll over so Dean was on his back and he was on top of Dean, but Dean still had his arm. He suspected Dean still had enough leverage to break his arm if he had wanted to. He head butted Dean, but could tell Dean pretty much dodged the blow, but Dean loosened his hold on Sam's arm, maybe pretending Sam had done a good job of head butting him. Sam twisted away and scrambled to his feet. He immediately back pedaled, getting out of Dean's reach. He was panting a little and waiting for Dean to get to his feet.

"Can we go through that again and you tell me what I did right and wrong?" Sam asked.

* * *

Dean gave Sam the time to find his hold on his arm and was pleased when the younger boy finally moved and managed to throw him. Sam did a lot better than he had the first time Dean had tried that particular move. Of course the younger boy losing his balance as well and nearly landing on top of him was an undesirable result, they’d work on that.

Dean didn’t let Sam off the hook with just the throw though, bringing Sam down and grabbing him again. Sam had to be prepared for his attackers to continue the fight, after all. They weren’t going to give up just because Sam managed to get in a lucky hit or two. Sam improvised pretty well though, kicking him, and even trying to head butt him just like he’d told the boy too. He was very pleased when Sam finally managed to get out of his reach. Looking a little winded but determined.

Dean smiled and got back to his feet.

Over the two hours he did exactly as Sam asked. He showed the younger boy what he’d done wrong with the throw and what he should have done. He let Sam put him into a rear choke hold and he demonstrated the throw and how to take out his attacker for good once Sam had him on the ground. He let Sam practice on him several more times and then showed the younger boy a few more useful tricks to break various holds. He showed Sam where various pressure points were and how to cause the maximum amount of damage with the least amount of effort to let him escape.

He could tell Sam was a little bit reluctant to actually do some of the things that Dean suggested, like punching his attackers in the throat, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Chances are if worse came to worse and Sam was attacked alone it wouldn’t be a one on one fight. When facing four or five attackers at once the more you could put on the ground and make sure they didn’t get back up again the better odds in your favor.

Finally Dean called a halt to their training finally feeling a little winded himself. Sam must be exhausted. Really, he was very pleased with Sam’s progress. The ‘geek’ was a pretty good student.

“Let’s call it a day. Good job.” Dean said, clapping the younger boy on the back. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

* * *

Dean worked him hard. Common sense and the natural survival instinct guided him in some cases but some of the positions and throws didn't feel natural at first. Once he began to get the feel for them, yeah, he could begin to see the physics behind them. That's what most of it was, a combination of physics and understanding how the body worked. He knew it was still going to take a lot of practice and some of the stuff Dean taught him, seemed…extreme. But then getting the shit kicked out of him, well, he could do extreme…if he had to.

Dean practically overloaded him with knowledge and he figured it would take him a month just to learn everything properly that Dean showed him today. He was really glad though when Dean finally called an end to the training. He felt parched beyond parched.

He beamed at Dean's compliment. "Yeah some water sounds really good right now. And a shower. Maybe I better start bringing an extra set of clothes if we're going to be training like this all the time. Uhm, food is sounding pretty good too. Mom gave me some money to give to Bobby to help cover my meals. You guys shouldn't be having to feed me."

* * *

Dean laughed and threw an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders as they walked back towards the house. He’d been doing it all day long it was almost second nature now, and he wasn’t really thinking how it might look to Bobby if the older man saw them walking together like this.

“I’d say it’s a good idea… for more reasons than one.” Dean replied, giving Sam a look that clearly said he had some very naughty reasons in mind. When Sam mentioned food though, the older boy nodded in agreement.

“I can fry up some cheeseburgers if you want.” Dean offered, his stomach already beginning to get on board with that idea by grumbling loudly. He wasn’t sure why, but he was a little surprised that Sam’s mom had given Sam money to give to Bobby. He honestly hadn’t thought about that. They weren’t hurting for money or anything, but having another mouth to feed five days a week…

The older man probably wouldn’t turn down the extra cash for ‘baby-sitting’ duty, even though Dean hadn’t expected it. He was also pretty sure that Bobby wouldn’t have cared even if Sam’s mom didn’t offer to pay them. The boy had to eat, after all. They weren’t going to sit down at dinner and just let him watch them eat. That was rude.

“You can talk to Bobby about it. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. You can borrow some of my clothes if you want to change after your shower, only fair since I borrowed yours.” Dean said casually then leaned in close to Sam’s ear with a slightly more mischievous tone. “You can have your underwear back too.”

* * *

Sam saw the look in Dean's eyes with regard to his mentioning the extra clothes. He had a feeling he might do well to just bring a week's worth of clothes and leave them here. The gleam in Dean's eyes told him it was highly likely they might end up needing a change of clothing for more than just from working out. If today was any sample of what the week might be like…yeah.

"Cheeseburgers sound good," Sam agreed. He realized not only was he thirsty, but he was starved.

With the way Dean had his arm over his shoulder, he assumed Bobby must know about the arrangement. In a way, that relieved him. It would make things easier between him and Dean at the salvage yard.

Seeing the look of mild surprise in the senior's eyes when he mentioned the money surprised him. He was glad Dean didn't seem offended by the offer. He wasn't about to take handouts from the two.

He nodded at the offer to borrow Dean's clothes. He would like to shower and he really didn't want to get back into his school uniform. When Dean whispered in his ear he felt the color rise into his cheeks. The thought of wearing underwear that Dean had been wearing, that he'd been wearing when Dean jacked off in front of him. He wasn't sure he could even put the underwear on without thinking of the senior al stretched out on the bed, moaning, wearing those same underwear.

* * *

Dean had a feeling he was going to like Sam eating over. Bobby always complained that he was going to turn into a cheeseburger one of these days. But if it was a two against one vote on dinner, then maybe Dean could get his cheeseburgers more often.

Well… it was a nice dream after all.

Dean did laugh when he saw the bright flush blossom all over the younger boy’s face when he mentioned Sam’s underwear. He could only imagine what was going on inside Sam’s head, because the younger boy didn’t say a word. Speechless… he certainly couldn’t accuse Sam of being that very often.

Sam was too damned cute when he blushed. Especially when he blushed because he was thinking about sex. Sex with Dean.

Dean was still grinning from ear to ear when they made it inside and the older teen finally dropped his arm from around Sam’s shoulders. Giving the other boy a little push towards the bathroom.

“Go ahead and get washed up if you want. Towels are on the rack. I’ll get you some clothes and leave them on the toilet.”

* * *

Dean seemed to delight in making him blush, and dammit, he didn't normally blush so easily. With what happened today in the car, Dean could probably lean in and just whisper 'underwear' to him and he'd turn crimson.

When Dean's arm left his shoulder Sam missed it almost immediately. He couldn't deny the older boy's presence made him feel protected and after the previous week he was feeling more than a little vulnerable. Sex or no sex, he liked, even needed, Dean close to him and that was almost embarrassing by itself. He was sixteen, not some frightened kid.

He let Dean nudge him toward the bathroom and a small part of him wanted to pull Dean close and kiss him, but they'd just been sparring. That seemed really un-manly to be kissing Dean after all the fighting they'd done. Too, Sam was pretty tired. Between the sex in the morning, the stress of the day, the jerking off once they got to Dean's place, and the work out, he was pretty certain he was going to sleep good tonight.

Sam headed into the bathroom and stripped down. He gave a small shake of his head. A week ago almost to the hour, he had been in this bathroom, taking a shower in this stranger's house, trying to wash away the taste and touch of Eric. He turned on the water and as soon as it had warmed up, he stepped inside. He guessed he ought to bring soap and shampoo in the future too. If they were going to get all sweaty like this every day, then he was going to want a shower every day after their workout.

Now that they were no longer sparring he couldn't deny his mind was recalling the touch of the senior on his body. The way Dean took hold of his wrist or his waist. The way he got to hold Dean in the headlock, their bodies pressed up close against one another. Dean's hot breath in his ear. Their panting, Dean's touch…Sam's thoughts were suddenly drifting away from the reality of their recent sparring and turning it into fantasies, Dean pinning him to the ground, kissing him, touching him…Sam hardly realized the long slow strokes he was giving his cock as his imagination swept him away.

* * *

On his way upstairs to get the clothes he’d promised for Sam, Dean checked Bobby’s office but didn’t see the older man in there. Weird, he hadn’t seen Bobby outside either. But that wasn’t much out of the ordinary the salvage yard was pretty big.

Crap, he hoped Bobby hadn’t seen him and Sam. What would he think? He’d just had his arm around the younger boy, it wasn’t like he’d been grabbing Sam’s ass or anything… still Bobby was a hunter and too damned observant to be making those kinds of mistakes around him. Hell, he’d left the door wide open when he and Sam had been making out before. That was just stupid. Even for him.

Sighing he went upstairs and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from his drawers that were a little small on him. He grabbed a belt too, figuring they would still be a little loose on Sam. A quick check showed him that that the older man wasn’t upstairs either.

He returned downstairs to hear the shower already running, but since Bobby wasn’t in the house he didn’t hesitate opening the bathroom door. He closed the lid and dropped the folded clothes on top of it. He was about to walk out again when he heard the soft moan come from the other side of the shower curtain and Dean wasn’t sure whether to be amused or impressed.

For a second Dean really considered stripping down and getting in with the younger boy. He could always say he just wanted to rinse off real quick too. If he helped rinse Sam off at the same time well… that was just multitasking right?

_Stop thinking with your damned dick, Bobby could come in at any time and see us._ Dean ordered himself and turned around to head out the door.

“Clothes are on the toilet, Sam.”

* * *

Sam hadn't even heard the door open what with the running water and his own distractions. Dean's words jolted him out of his fantasies. Fuck he was hard as a rock again. He hadn't jacked off this much since he had the hots for that cheerleader. His mind immediately flashed to that morning, Dean's wet body standing naked in front of him and him having to jack off again before they went to school because of that and those tight pants.

What if…what if he asked Dean to finish him off? Dean would. He knew that. But Dean would also probably end up in the shower with him and that made him both all sorts of hot and bothered at the thought, but a little weirded out too. With Dean's naked and wet body in the same shower, up against him…he moaned softly at the thought…he'd end up…touching Dean and no, it was just all too fast. Way too fast. A part of this just didn't seem right in the first place but Dean had an effect on like no one ever had before.

"Thanks," Sam voice was between a squeak and a groan. Finish up, he told himself sternly. He soaped his hand up good and quickly finished himself off, trying to keep his sounds quiet to non-existent but when he came the orgasm shook him so hard it almost put him on his knees. It had a lot to do with the fact he was hyper sensitized at this point he was sure, and hell, his cock was getting a little tender at this point with all the attention. He leaned against the shower wall, gathering himself. This was just getting out of control. He made himself focus on finishing his shower quickly. His stomach was rumbling and demanding food and it wouldn't be too much longer before Dean would be taking him home for the evening.

He got out of the shower and dried off. He picked up Dean's underwear and held it up. Dean wore his for half the day, there was some sort of irony that he would be wearing Dean's for the second half of the day. It wasn't a bad fit, though a little large as were the jeans. He was grateful Dean had thought to loan him a belt or the pants would have been hanging low enough on his hips to approach obscene. The t-shirt was equally big. He ran his hand over the AC DC logo. Not a t-shirt he would own, but it was Dean's so it was okay.

He headed out to the kitchen, greeted by the smell of cooking burgers. "Can I help with anything?"

* * *

The tone of Sam’s voice made Dean grin in spite of himself and he had to force himself to walk out the door and close it firmly behind him. Rather than do what he really wanted to do, like ‘check on’ Sam in the shower. Just to make sure the younger boy was ‘all right’. Maybe even giving Sam a helping hand…

Damn it.

Dean forced himself to shut off all the mental images of the two of them in the shower together, Sam clinging to him while he worked the younger boy’s slippery wet cock, before he sprouted wood yet _again_. Dinner. Think of dinner. Hamburgers. Nothing friggen arousing about hamburgers…

Ok… Bobby in a tutu… there problem solved.

The young man went into the kitchen and got out what he would need to fry up some burgers for him, Sam, and Bobby. Even though Bobby would probably complain about having cheeseburgers again and fries _again_. But you couldn’t have cheeseburgers without fries. That was just wrong.

So he patted the hamburger into patties and threw them on the pan that was heating up, then dug out the potatoes. Washing them and starting to slice them up while the burgers started frying. It was about then that Sam entered the kitchen offering to help… and looking fucking adorable in his clothes. Dean cleared his throat and nodded, handing over the knife he’d been using to Sam.

“Sure, finish cutting these up while I get the oil ready.”

* * *

The way Dean looked him over told Sam that Dean approved of Sam in his clothes as much as Sam had approved of Dean in his. Stepping up beside Dean he took the knife and began cutting up the potatoes. He made short work of them and handed them off to Dean then turned to the onions Dean had set out and quickly cut them up. While Dean was tending to the burgers and fries, Sam got the table wiped off and set and dug out the condiments from the fridge and handed Dean the buns to throw into the oven to toast. He'd seen some extra strawberries in the fridge, no doubt left over from the shortcake Bobby had brought the day before and cleaned them and cut them up and sprinkled a light layer of sugar over them and set the bowls on the table at each plate. Although he wanted a coke, he knew with all the training, they probably ought to have water so filled up three glasses with water and ice. If the others wanted something else, he figured they could change out the water easily enough.

Sam looked up when Bobby came in through the back door, Rumsfeld on his heels.

"Hello Mr. Singer—Bobby," Sam corrected himself.

"Hello Sam. Nice to see you without new bruises."

Sam gave him a grin. "Nice not to have any. Well, one on my shoulder, but that's okay. Don't think they'll do that again. Not after Dean made them apologize to me."

"I'm gonna get cleaned up," Bobby said and passed a mild glare to Dean. "Tomorrow is chicken. Roasted. Got that?"

* * *

When the younger boy was done with the potatoes, Dean seasoned them up just the way he liked them and threw them in the heated oil to fry. Sam seemed to be doing pretty well finding things to do and finding his way around the kitchen, so Dean left him to it, pretty much concentrating on the burgers themselves. It was actually kind of nice to have someone else take care of things like setting and cleaning off the table while he worked. He saw Sam go in the fridge and take out the strawberries and lifted an eyebrow as he watched the younger boy sugar them and set them on the table but Dean merely shrugged. Well, Bobby should be a little bit happy then. They were having fruit with their dinner.

Dean turned when he heard the door open and smiled as Rumsfeld followed Bobby in and the dog immediately made himself comfortable on the floor in the middle of the kitchen. He gave the older man’s his most innocent expression they both knew was full of shit in response to Bobby’s glare and then merely shrugged at his words.

“Sure. Whatever.” He replied and turned his attention back to the burgers. They were going to have fried chicken tomorrow. If Bobby wanted him to cook, then Dean was going to make what he wanted, damn it. But he’d make some canned corn to go with it, corn was a vegetable right?

“Burgers are almost done.” He threw over his shoulder as he checked on the fries, and the buns in the oven. The buns were done. So were the fries. He quickly took the buns out of the oven and set them on the counter. Setting some paper towels on the counter as well, he scooped out the fries onto them to drain and cool off.

“Sam, bring me the plates.” Dean said as he started throwing a few slices of cheese on top of the burgers. 

* * *

Sam brought over the plates and once Dean had filled them, set them on the table then settled into what had become 'his' spot at the table. He doctored his burger to his liking and seeing that Dean wasn't waiting on Bobby, began eating himself.

Bobby came out a few minutes later and gave a sigh as he sat down at the table. "You're either going to turn into a cheeseburger or die of a coronary by the time you're twenty-five," Bobby told Dean. "Or yer trying to make me die of a coronary just so you can inherit my business." Seeing the veiled surprise in Dean's eyes, Bobby snorted. "Who else would I leave my stuff to you idget? Yer the only family I got."

Sam couldn't help but smirk at Bobby's comments. His own mom wouldn't let the family eat like this most times because his dad had high cholesterol. And she'd say the same of Sam when it came to pizza. He'd eat pizza three or four times a week if she'd let him. Or hot dogs. Or burgers. But pizza was his real weakness. He'd do the homemade pizza and load it up into a coronary waiting to happen with the sausage and pepperoni and layers of cheese. Hey, maybe he could get Bobby to buy the stuff and he could make them pizza one night. With that in mind he slipped from the table and went to his backpack. He settled back in to the chair and laid the two twenties his mom had given him on the table.

"Mom told me to give you that to help pay for my meals and snacks and stuff. You're supposed to let me know if that's enough. I got a feeling she might drop off the occasional meal on Sunday nights for us to have on Mondays. If Dad cooks it, it'll probably be barbque. If Mom cooks, hard telling. Might be stew or chili or a Japanese meal. Or the makings for one and I can cook it. And you're not allowed to turn any of it down. My parents aren't going to let you shoulder feeding me. Mom made some coffee cake last night too. She doesn't want Dad eating it all, and he will, so she sent some over for you and Dean. It's wrapped in foil on the counter."

Bobby cocked an eyebrow at the youngster. He actually hadn't thought about the fact that he would be feeding the boy five nights a week. He gave a nod. "Fair 'nough," the old mechanic said. "But we don't eat real fancy around here. Don't know that it'll cost that much."

Sam shrugged. "I don't think my parents will accept giving you any less."

Bobby gave a soft grunt. "All right then, son. But if I send you home with leftovers, they can't be refusing them."

Sam beamed. "That sounds good. And I can do some of the cooking. I make good pizza and meatloaf and spaghetti."

Glancing at Dean Bobby leaned toward Sam a little and asked, "You any good at roast chicken? I swear that boy don't know how to cook anything that ain't fried unless it comes out of a can." He gave Sam a wink.

"Uh, yeah, I could do roast chicken probably," he said with a small laugh.

"Looks like we're gonna need to get you set up with a place to keep some spare clothes, too."

"Dean was nice enough to loan me some of his clothes. I didn't think about the training and I really needed a shower and didn't want to get back into my school clothes. They suck."

Bobby laughed. "I've heard that sentiment before though it was put a little more strongly." After dipping one of his fries into the ketchup and eating it he said, "I'll do dishes tonight and you two can get started on your homework." Looking at Dean he added. "After you drop off Sam tonight, we need to get some work done on that project we need ready for this weekend. Sam, Dean's going to have to drop you off at home right after school on Friday. You be okay with that? Or we can bring you here, but one of your parents will have to come get you. Dean and I are headed out of state this weekend. I'd pull Dean out at lunchtime, but I don't want to leave you unprotected and we can make up the time once we hit the road. Especially with Mr. Speed Demon drivin'."

"Yeah, I'll be okay at home. I'll just let my parents know."

* * *

Dean sat down at the table across from Sam and poured a generous amount of ketchup on his hamburger before taking a large bite out of it. Damn that was good. He was starving. Which was why his only reply was to continue chewing when Bobby finally joined them and made his comment about him dying of a heart attack before he was twenty five. He’d heard it plenty of times before. In Dean’s opinion, dying of junk food poisoning wasn’t such a bad way to go.

Though he did roll his eyes a little when Bobby accused him of trying to give the older man a coronary instead. To get a hold of his business of all things. Dean gave Bobby a quizzical look, was he fucking serious? Apparently so. The young man averted his eyes down to his plate as he started munching on his fries. He hated when Bobby talked like that, getting all mushy with him… alone was bad enough, and now they had company.

He glanced up from his plate however when Sam got up and returned to the table with the money the younger boy had mentioned earlier. Dean wasn’t really sure how much he liked the idea of Sam’s mom coming by their house with dinner for them. And, damn it, he’d forgotten to throw out the cake.

Sam cooking? Well, he probably shouldn’t be too surprised considering how well the younger boy had helped him out with dinner tonight. Meatloaf and spaghetti? That didn’t sound so bad. They didn’t have that much around here. Pizza on the other hand… they practically owned stock in the local pizza joint down the road.

Though Dean frowned a little when Bobby ‘whispered’ conspiratorially to Sam regarding him making roasted chicken. Damn it. Sam was supposed to be on _his_ side about this. Homework… he definitely wasn’t in the mood for that. Especially since he didn’t usually start his homework until later on. Though when the older man mentioned their ‘project’ for this weekend, Dean’s frown vanished and he gave the older man a nod.

Dean couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten about the hunt he and Bobby were going on this weekend. Usually when they were getting ready for a hunt he could barely think about anything else. Sam had been distracting him more than he realized. He really needed to get his head back on straight, he couldn’t have any distractions if he was going to be dealing with werewolves.

Though he frowned a little when Sam said he would be ok at home. He would have rather Sam agreed to come here and stay until his parents could pick him up, if only because he knew there was no way anyone from their school would come by the salvage yard. Sam’s house on the other hand… Maybe he would talk to Sam about it when they were doing their ‘homework’.

Damn it. And he’d already been making plans in his head about taking Sam to the bar this weekend… yeah, he wasn’t distracted at all. Maybe they could still do it, just not on Friday night like he’d been planning. Maybe Wednesday… it was ladies night after all… That could definitely work. All he had to do was convince Sam. 

* * *

Sam saw that Dean wasn't happy with the idea of him not coming to the salvage yard. It seemed kind of silly though if they weren't there. Yeah, okay, so Eric could have made a copy of his house keys. Dean himself had said Eric wouldn't try and break in or anything. And it would only be for a few hours.

He was curious what their project was, but since Bobby didn't say what it was, he didn't think he should ask. There was still that bit of knowledge he had of the room downstairs with all the symbols, and this weekend was a full moon. He didn't know if the dates or the moon had any significance to…non-Christians, yeah, he didn't want to think of them as devil worshippers. Maybe they were just pagans or something? Maybe they were meeting up with their coven. He really hoped neither men started trying to convert him or anything. Both his parents were Christians, especially his mom. Though his mom wasn't Catholic, on the back of his watch was engraved the two sides of the St. Benedict's medal. She told him it would protect him. Yeah, really protected him from Eric…well, actually, he'd been wearing the fancy watch Eric had given him at the time. Well, wasn't that ironic? Eric's watch was already buried in a drawer and he had on the watch his mom had gotten him. He knew his dad had the same thing engraved in the back of his watch and she had it on the underside of the bracelet she wore.

He was pleased that Bobby said he'd do the dishes so Sam and Dean could get some homework done. He had gotten a good bit done while sitting in with Dean during detention, but he still had a lot to do having missed those days.

As soon as he finished he put his dirty dishes on the counter. "That was great, Dean. Thanks for doing the dishes Bobby."

He headed out to his books and plopped down on the couch, pulling the books of interest out.

* * *

Dean finished off his burger and most of his fries, sharing the rest with Rumsfeld. When he was done he got up and tossed his dishes into the sink and grudgingly grabbed his book bag off of the floor where he’d haphazardly threw it earlier. Sam already had his books out and everything… like a good little student… and was sitting in the living room doing his homework.

Dean really wanted to suggest that they take it upstairs to his bedroom… even if they didn’t do anything he could at least talk to the younger boy more freely about the things he _wanted_ to do. But one glance back at Bobby convinced him it probably wasn’t a good idea.

If the older man wasn’t suspicious about them already taking Sam up into his bedroom was a good way to make him suspicious. So Dean merely sighed and flopped himself down in one of the arm chairs across from the couch and dug out his own books, Rumsfeld shadowing his every move as usual, followed him into the living room and stretched himself out on the floor at his feet.

Dean was pretty much done with his homework by the time it rolled around to take Sam home and by that time he was ready for the excuse to put it down.

“Alright, Sam. Let’s go.” He told the younger boy as he got up and stretched. Grabbing his keys from the counter, and giving Bobby a heads up as he passed the older man now working in his office. “Back in a few, Bobby.”

They got in his car, and Dean barely waited for Sam to get in before suggesting.

“So, how about Wednesday night? Its ladies night at the bar.” He said, knowing Sam would know exactly what he was talking about. 

* * *

Sam was almost startled when Dean told him it was time to go. He was so used to studying and doing his homework at home, he had practically forgotten he wasn't home. He gave a nod and quickly gathered his things. He grabbed his backpack that had his school clothes and his regular clothes in them. He supposed he could change back into his school clothes, but he didn't want to make Dean wait. He'd just give him back his clothes the next day.

He followed Dean out to the Impala and settled into the passenger's seat, buckling up. He glanced over at Dean quizzically, his mind still on school work. It took a moment for him to process Dean's comment. When the implication sunk in he felt a slight color rise to his cheeks.

"Uhm, okay," he said. They were actually going to go out to a bar and pick up a girl? A girl that would do them both? Or maybe they'd each get a girl. A shy smile played at his lips. "That'll be…you really think someone will want to…with me?" He knew his cheeks turned redder. God he was such a girl! He didn't get this embarrassed when he'd been with Amanda or Stacy. It was as if Dean could say most anything and he would just turn red.  


* * *

There was that blush again, and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle a little even as he waited… a little nervously… for Sam’s answer. He really hoped that Sam would say yes. He wanted to show Sam a good time, and hopefully in the process erase some of the younger boy’s misgivings with touching him.  


  
He was really trying to be patient with Sam, to give the younger boy whatever time he needed to get comfortable with the idea of going all the way… but it was kind of difficult to be patient when Sam didn’t even want to touch his cock. Sure, the younger boy had enjoyed, really enjoyed, everything that Dean had done to him. But at Sam’s age the younger boy could probably get off on rubbing against a tree too. He wanted Sam to want _him_ as much as he wanted Sam.

The fact that Sam had obviously gotten off on watching him jack off today made Dean feel a little better though. Now if Sam would only touch him… Dean knew he could be patient with the rest if Sam would only touch him.

When the younger boy finally said yes, Dean practically beamed. Then Sam’s soft question… while blushing even redder Dean noticed, made him almost want to smack the younger boy upside the head even as it filled him with a strange tenderness. How could Sam even ask a question like that? Didn’t the younger boy realize what he was doing to _him_?

Instead of answering, Dean leaned over the seat, cupped the back of the younger boy’s neck, and kissed Sam thoroughly. Only pulling back when he was nearly out of breath and he smiled at the younger boy, sure he’d made his point.

“Of course.” Dean finally said when he returned to his side of the car, slid the key into the ignition and started her up. 

* * *

Sam could see Dean was very happy he was willing to go out on Wednesday night. Okay, so what was he going to tell his parents? If it was a Friday night, no big deal, they were doing a party. Middle of the school week? They wouldn't be keen on him not coming home. Well, he'd used the study session excuse for Dean picking him up. Maybe he could use that again. He just didn't really figure they'd be 'done' before it was too late to go home. And…Sam didn't really want to see his parents right after losing his virginity.

He was going to lose his virginity…That was just approaching, well, bizarre. He always figured it wouldn't happen for a while yet and it would be with someone he'd been dating, the romance thing, all of that. He supposed it wouldn't be very romantic. It would just be sex. Did it matter? ….Well, maybe kind of. Would it be silly to have flowers for a girl you hadn't even met yet? Or was that just too stupid? Flowers really wouldn't make it any more romantic though. What did women want? From what Dean said, it was going to probably be a girl that just wanted to have a chance to screw Dean, who was damned good looking, and then there was Sam and just popping his cherry as it were. Yeah. Flowers would be lame. Maybe a rose? Just a single rose? …no, still lame.

Sam knew Dean wanted it to be a threesome. He just wasn't sure about that. He was still trying to wrap his brain around how Dean made him so fucking hot. He was still trying to deal with the fact he was having a relationship with a guy, too.

When Dean kissed him, god it made him feel so loved, practically treasured. Dean's words did given him some reassurance though.

"If…if you weren't sponsoring me, would you…would you have asked me out?" Sam asked.

* * *

Dean couldn’t deny he was surprised by Sam’s question, and he honestly didn’t know how to answer the younger boy. Would he have asked Sam out? Like on a date or something?

Frankly… he really didn’t know. For one, Dean didn’t date. Ever. One night stands only. No attachments. No repeat performances. No getting close… to anyone. He didn’t date chicks and he certainly didn’t date guys. Hell, he didn’t even have one night stands around here where it might get back to Bobby that he was interested in guys.

More than that, Dean didn’t get involved with anyone in that school. He didn’t talk to any of them. He certainly didn’t make friends with any of them. He didn’t care about the problems of those stupid rich brats. If anyone was dumb enough to bother him, he made sure they didn’t make the same mistake twice. If Bobby hadn’t picked Sam up that night, he probably would have never looked at Sam twice…

Dean certainly didn’t want to tell Sam that though. He didn’t want Sam to take it the wrong way. He liked Sam. He liked the younger boy a lot. He wasn’t sure what it was about Sam, but Sam was… different, and he was glad that Sam had asked him to ‘sponsor’ him so he could find that out.

“Yeah.” He finally answered. It might have been a lie, but he wished it was the truth. 

* * *

Sam could practically see the wheels turning in Dean's head with his question. He was a little surprised he'd even asked it but he guessed he wanted to know if…well if Dean really was attracted to him or if Sam was just a…convenience.

And what would he have done if Dean had hit on him?

Freaked.

Okay, maybe not freaked, but no way in hell would he have said yes. He wouldn't have gone out on a date with a guy, any guy. He would have never in a million years thought he would like it.

Dean was taking a long time to think his answer over. That pretty much meant 'no', and he felt a little twist in his stomach over that, a little sting to his ego. Not that he wanted Dean to have asked him out but…wait, yes? Dean said yes? It wasn't a flippant 'yeah,' or a too smooth 'yeah.' There was an uncertainty in it. Like maybe he would have wanted to but wouldn't have. Dean didn't seem to have any shyness about sex so why the hesitation. And talking about the bar indicated Dean liked girls, so that meant he swung either way and he seemed real confident that he could get Sam laid which probably meant he wasn't shy in asking someone out. So why the hesitation?

The answer was pretty obvious. Dean hated the people who went to that school. He might have hit on Sam if they hadn't met in that school, but Dean never would have asked him out otherwise. Sam smiled a little. The senior didn't want Sam to think it was just about the sex because…because apparently it wasn't. It kind of made a warm spot in Sam's chest. Maybe initially it was about free sex, but Dean liked him. The sting to his ego disappeared.

Sam grinned and smacked him in the arm. "You're such a liar," he said laughing.

* * *

The smack to his arm and the younger boy calling him a liar surprised Dean more than a little. Ok... so he had been lying. Sam hardly seemed upset about it though. In fact, he seemed rather pleased.

Ok... Dean was officially confused.

But since the younger boy was laughing as he did it, Dean guessed that he must have done _something_ right. Sam’s grin was infectious as hell and he couldn’t help returning it, even if he rolled his eyes impressively at the younger boy’s antics.

“Bitch.” He called Sam, but there was nothing but affection in his tone.

It wasn’t long after that he pulled up in front of Sam’s house and Dean decided it was a shame that the drive wasn’t longer. The lights were on in the house so he guessed at least one of Sam’s parents were home. He put the car into park and shifted to look at the younger boy sitting next to him.

“So... do you want me to come pick you up early tomorrow?” 

* * *

He could see the surprise and confusion in the senior. Hell maybe Sam was thinking too much and a yeah simply meant a yeah. But he suspected he hit it pretty close to the truth. Dean didn't seem all that complicated.

"Jerk," Sam tossed back at him seeing Dean roll his eyes and continued to chuckle and grin. Dean had smiled a lot today, really, and somehow, Sam didn't think smiling, really smiling, was something Dean did a lot of.

The rest of the drive was just too short. He should have had Dean stop for ice cream or something. Anything to stretch out the time a little. But he did have homework to finish and he wanted to get some more work done on the present for Dean.

He smiled when Dean asked about showing up early but shifted a little uncomfortably. "That would be okay but…" he voice dropped almost to a whisper, "I'm uh, kinda getting sore, you know, down there and if we're going out Wednesday…" He bit his lip. "You think we can make out without…crap, you're just such a fucking good kisser that it's hard not to get, uhm, hard."

Well, shit. There he went fucking blushing again.

"But, I'll bring extra clothes," Sam added, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'll be ready early, if you want. I just might be…not up to everything we did today. How much more embarrassing can it be to tell a girl I'm a virgin and my cock is all red and raw because…well, you know."

Sam grabbed his stuff and gave Dean an almost shy smile as he got out of the car. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

Dean couldn’t deny he was happy that Sam said ‘yes’ to his offer to come by early tomorrow.

Though the younger boy’s whispered concern regarding the soreness of his cock, Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Ok, so maybe they had gone a little overboard today and Sam did have a point. He certainly didn’t want the younger boy to be too sore to have any fun on Wednesday night.

So, he guessed, he’d have to take it easy on Sam tomorrow. Though he wondered how Sam would react to a suggestion of making out and giving the younger boy’s cock a rest. Sam could always touch him or… he could play with Sam’s ass. The younger boy had certainly seemed intrigued enough when he’d watched him use his fingers inside of himself earlier.

“Ok, see you tomorrow, Sammy.” Dean replied, watching the younger boy head into his house, pulling the car away from the curb once the front door shut. 


	7. Chapter 7

It hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd greeted his parents when he got home, though it turned out only his dad was home. They'd passed the basic how was your day sort of pleasantries and Sam headed up to his room. He had gotten his homework out, sitting down at his desk to finish and the next thing he knew his mom was gently shaking him awake and guiding him to his bed.  


  
When he woke in the morning he felt like he'd been run over by a truck. He dragged himself out of bed; the shower helped loosen up his sore muscles but he was feeling everything from the two to three mile run, to all the thrusting his hips had done, to all the bruises he had taken during training, and his cock, yeah, it was sore. So were his balls for that matter. He wasn't sure there was a part of him that didn't ache. He popped a couple aspirin and rubbed some soothing lotion on his cock. After he got dressed, he stuffed extra clothes in his back pack and put his homework into his other backpack. He would go down and eat in a minute. He just wanted to lay back down for a few minutes. He had plenty of time yet.

He groaned when his mother shook his awake.

"I'm leaving Sam. Out of bed. Dean will be here soon, I'm sure."

"M'kay," he grunted.

"Up!" she ordered with exasperation.

Sam grudgingly sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face sleepily. He dragged himself out to the living room. At least the aspirin seemed to have helped some.

"Worked you hard did he?" she asked as she set Sam's things on the couch.

Sam looked guiltily at her. "Uhm, yeah." he agreed. "Gonna get breakfast."

"All right. I haven't dumped the coffee out yet. Maybe you better have some. See you tonight."

"Hey Mom? Dean and I have a big exam on Thursday. Can I just stay at his place tomorrow night?"

She paused and sighed. "If your father agrees, I suppose. Bobby's okay with you staying?"

"Yeah," Sam said, suddenly wondering what they were going to tell the older man. Well, that was up to Dean to come up with.

"Okay. You can ask your dad tonight. I'll be late again. I did get another set of pictures for Dean's portfolio."

"Thanks, Mom. Have a good day," Sam said as he staggered out to the kitchen, waving to her as she left and locked the door behind her. He settled on toast and reheated the coffee in the microwave. After he finished eating he went out to the living room to wait for Dean. Even if Dean was coming early he had a good twenty minutes yet. Maybe he'd just shut his eyes for a few minutes…

* * *

He and Bobby had spent the night making extra silver bullets, when it came to werewolves, it was always better to have too much ammunition rather than not enough. After that they spent some time doing some late night target practice in the dark. Once he had satisfied Bobby he’d practiced enough, hitting his targets dead center every single time, they both went to bed.

The next morning Dean got up early and did his usual morning workout. Bobby was already gone by the time he was done on an early pick up. Dean showered, dressed, and grabbed something to eat before he headed out the door.

He couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to seeing Sam again today. He’d enjoyed his time with the younger boy yesterday even more than he had thought he would. Sam was a fast learner… in many different ways, and he was looking forward to teaching Sam some more today. Hopefully. If the younger boy was up to it.

When Dean pulled the Impala up to the curb of Sam’s house it was about an hour or so before they’d have to actually leave for school. He hoped that the younger boy’s parents had already left for work and shit, because he really didn’t want to have to explain to them why he was here so early.

Dean knocked on the front door of Sam’s house and waited for the other boy to open the door. When no one answered he frowned and knocked again louder. 

* * *

The loud knocking on the door pulled Sam from his sleep. He bolted upright, suddenly very awake, and looked at the clock on the wall.

"Oh, crap," he muttered, wiping the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. He really had intended to try to get more homework done. He pushed himself to his stocking feet and walked to the door. Opening it, he grinned sheepishly at Dean as he combed his fingers through his unruly hair.

"Sorry. Uhm, kinda fell back asleep. I just need to get my shoes on. C'mon in."

Sam walked back to the living room. His mom had brought his shoes out along with his stuff. He sank onto the couch and slid his shoes on and tied them. "Are you sure you didn't run over me with your car or something?" he teased, looking up at the tall senior. "I ache in places I didn't know even existed. Help me up."

He ignored the look Dean gave him and waited for Dean to offer him a hand. When Deean did, he took hold of it and promptly yanked Dean down onto the couch, practically on top of him. Chuckling, he tsked. "You need to work on that center of balance of yours. It's all about leverage, I'm told."

* * *

What the hell was taking Sam so long? It was way too early for Sam to have already left for school, and besides, the younger boy wasn’t dumb enough to show up there alone. What if something had happened to Sam? What if Eric or someone else from the school had come by and…

Just when Dean was contemplating grabbing his lock pick kit, or simply breaking the door down, Sam finally opened the door. He couldn’t deny he was a little surprised by Sam’s appearance. His hair mussed and his eyes tired. Though the younger boy was dressed, Sam looked like he’d just woken up. Apparently he had. Dean didn’t know whether to feel amused or guilty for having obviously completely exhausted the younger boy yesterday.

Dean laughed softly at Sam’s accusation. Ok, so maybe he would have to take it a bit easier on the younger boy. Not work him so hard training and in bed at the same time.

He watched Sam putting his shoes on, and when the younger boy asked for his help up he raised an eyebrow. Worry beginning to win out over his amusement, only to find himself suddenly pulled off balance and landing on top of Sam. He’d barely managed to put his arms out on either side of Sam when he landed to keep from squashing the younger boy completely.

As he looked down into Sam’s amused eyes, so close now, Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. Then he shifted a little so he was resting comfortably between the younger boy’s legs and as he brought his mouth closer to Sam’s.

“So, what else do you remember from your training?” Dean asked, only half teasing, before kissing the younger boy. 

* * *

He knew he shouldn't be teasing Dean like this, especially since he was already sore, but he just couldn't resist. Dean had looked all worried when he opened the door and then when Sam asked him for help up. Besides the pounding on the door had kicked some adrenaline into him and he felt like being a bit silly. They had lots of time before they had to be at school.

He grinned at Dean's chuckle. He wrapped his arms around Dean when the older boy kissed him. He tangle his tongue with Dean's for a minute then rolled them off the couch and shifted his hands to Dean's wrists so he had Dean pinned on the floor. "I remember how to pin someone," he said.

Looking down at Dean it was his turn to chuckle. He wriggled his hips teasingly. "And that if I move around right I'll probably give them a hard on."

He kissed Dean until he had to come up for air. "Okay, maybe the coffee was a bad idea, or the sugar I put in it was." Sam laughed.

* * *

Dean groaned softly into the younger boy’s mouth. Enjoying the way Sam’s tongue caressed his own and the way the younger boy’s arms wrapped around him. He was definitely looking forward to helping Sam take his mind off some of his aches and pains from yesterday. Though he couldn’t stop the small sound of surprise that escaped his mouth into Sam’s when the younger boy suddenly rolled them both off the couch, and the grunt when Sam landed on top of him.

He raised an eyebrow when Sam suddenly pinned his wrists to the floor then laughed outright at the younger boy’s teasing. Though the laugh quickly changed to a moan the way Sam wiggled against him. As Sam kissed him again, Dean slipped his wrists from the younger boy’s hold and his hands came to rest on Sam’s slender hips. Holding the younger boy to him as Dean arched beneath him, rubbing his definitely growing hard on against Sam.

“I think you should drink coffee every morning.” Dean teased back, his hands becoming bolder as they slipped from Sam’s hips to cup the younger boy’s ass instead. Squeezing the firm muscles through the pants Sam was wearing then traveling upwards, sliding underneath the younger boy’s shirt.

“Still sore everywhere?” He asked a little more seriously. 

* * *

He could tell Dean was getting aroused. Sam was beginning to think all they had to do was practically look at each other to get a hard on. He let Dean 'escape' his 'hold' and moaned a little as Dean held his hips in place as Dean rubbed against him. That felt good, just like Dean's hands on his ass felt. He arched up a little into Dean's touch when Dean's hands drifted under his shirt caressing bare skin. Arching up made him grind his cock down against Dean's.

"…Yeah," Sam said. "Hot shower, aspirin, lotion…down there, it's all helped but," he bent his elbows and laid his body on top of Dean, turning his head so his ear was pressed against Dean's chest. He listened to the thumping of Dean's heart, "I still hurt. Guess I shouldn't be teasing you like this huh?"

Sam grew quiet, laying there, running his hand lightly over Dean's chest. Yesterday school had gone fine for the most part, but like yesterday morning he really didn't want to go back to that place.

"You've never sponsored anyone before they say. You don't walk with anyone, talk with anyone. How come you decided to sponsor me? You didn't want anything to do with me originally." 

* * *

Dean echoed Sam’s soft moan when the younger boy ground down against him. Damn, but Sam could get him so damned hot barely even trying. Though when the other boy admitted that yes he was still sore from yesterday. Hot shower, Aspirin, _and_ lotion? A soft laugh escaped the older boy even as he winced a little in sympathy.

“Probably not.” Dean admitted a little reluctantly, even as he laughed softly. That probably meant he shouldn’t be teasing Sam either. He didn’t want the poor boy’s dick to fall off, after all.

Sam didn’t move to get off him though. Instead, making himself more comfortable and Dean couldn’t say he minded. Well, his cock was complaining a little, but he told it to behave itself. Sam’s fingers continued to drift lightly over his chest, and his own hands mirrored the motions along the younger boy’s bare back beneath his shirt. The touch meant to be more soothing than arousing now.

Now that he was paying more attention, Dean could feel the tension in the younger boy’s muscles even though Sam seemed pretty relaxed at the moment. The muscles were probably tight from the workout and training they’d done yesterday. His fingers started to lightly massage along the younger boy’s back though when Sam spoke again, asking him why he was sponsoring him, Dean paused for a moment and then sighed heavily before continuing.

“If your dick wasn’t digging into my hip, I’d call you a girl.” Dean complained then he was quiet for a long time before he finally shrugged. “I don’t know. When I saw you walking down the street, those fuckers following you… I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

* * *

Sam had to admit the light massage on his back felt good. Apparently he needed to stretch out more after the workout/training. That would probably help.

When Dean accused him of being a girl, he scowled. It was a fair question, dammit. He wasn't really sure he would get an honest answer, but he wanted to one all the same. If the reason was Dean lusted after him, Dean sure as hell wasn't going to tell him that. Dean wasn't going to tell him he was pathetic either. So what would the senior say? He really wasn't sure Dean was going to answer him when he finally spoke.

Sam almost made a crack about better late than never, but wisely didn't. It hadn't been Dean's job to look out for him and he was just freaking lucky Dean had even stopped for him. So. He did fall into the pathetic category. The damsel in distress.

"Yeah, kinda shocked me when you stopped. Wasn't really sure…didn't know why you did it. I figured…well, I hoped you were the lesser of the evils." Pushing himself up and looking into Dean's eyes he added. "Glad you were."

Giving Dean a quick kiss before finally pushing himself off Dean and slowly getting his feet under him, he took a moment to glare at Dean. "And I'm not being girlie. You sponsoring anyone is a big shock to everyone. I was just curious what made me different."

* * *

The lesser of two evils, huh? Dean frowned a little at that. Well, he supposed he couldn’t very well blame Sam for thinking that. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if that was still the only reason Sam wanted him around. Because he was the lesser of two evils. He might want to get into the younger boy’s pants, but he’d never force Sam.

The kiss Sam gave him was over far too quick and then Sam was pushing himself up and off him, and Dean couldn’t help but frown a little more. Guess he’d said the wrong thing after all. Damn it.

And all the while Sam was insisting he wasn’t acting like a chick. Then why was the younger boy giving him all the damned chick type questions and then based on his answer either putting out or not?

Dean huffed as he pushed himself up on his elbows, looking up at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

“What does it matter?” 

* * *

Sam was surprised by Dean's annoyance. He apparently said something wrong, but, he reminded himself, Dean did seem to have a hair trigger when it came to getting pissed off, especially when it came to Sam.

"I told you, I was just curious," Sam said a little defensively. "You've got a wicked reputation. They beat the hell out of me, you'd been pretty pissed at me the night before, and then stopped to help. It just didn't make any sense to me and you kind of scared me. You confuse me, okay?" Sam sighed a little. "In a lot of ways."

Since he had upset Dean, Sam eased himself back to the floor. He didn't want Dean pissed at him. He rested his hand on Dean's thigh and rubbed it lightly. "Sorry, okay? Just don't…don't call me a girl." He was already whoring himself out, he didn't need the reminder. Not that he was really minding some of what—okay, maybe a lot of what—he and Dean were doing, but he didn't want to be called a girl.

Squeezing Dean's thigh he gave him a small smile. "You're here early and I'm sore. So…you got any ideas what we can do that won't make me more, uh, you know, sore?" He was proud oh himself. He didn't blush. Barely.

* * *

Yeah, Dean knew his reputation. All too well. But he still wasn’t quite sure why it mattered to Sam so much why he’d decided to help the younger boy out. Wasn’t it enough that he was helping Sam? Wasn’t it enough that he… liked… Sam? Why did the other boy have to analyze everything?

Maybe he’d just thought that by now Sam wouldn’t really care what other people were saying about him. Though if he was being totally honest, how long had they really known each other? Barely more than a week? For some reason it just felt like they’d known each other longer.

He supposed he couldn’t blame Sam… since this whole thing confused the hell out of him too sometimes.

When Sam eased himself back down onto the floor and started rubbing his thigh, Dean sighed softly.

“Sorry.” He apologized for calling the younger boy a girl, even if Sam was acting like one. But since the other boy seemed to get so defensive every time Dean teased him that way, he wouldn’t anymore.

Dean snorted softly in amusement though when Sam asked him if there was anything they could do that wouldn’t make the younger boy more sore than he was. Well… he supposed there was one thing he could do.

“Sure. Take off your shirt and lay down on the couch, on your stomach.” He told the younger boy, unable to keep from grinning when Sam blushed. 

* * *

Dean just got too damned much enjoyment making him blush, Sam decided. He was going to have to figure out how to make Dean blush. He had done it before. The mischief in the senior's eyes made him suspicious but not necessarily in a bad way. He looked at Dean and then the couch and tried to fathom what Dean was up to.

He hadn’t put his coat on yet so he slowly undid his shirt and pulled it off, wincing slightly when his aching shoulders complained. Climbing to his feet he kicked off his shoes that he had just put on and pulled off his belt. If he was going to lay on his stomach he didn't want the buckle biting into his stomach. He set his shirt and belt on the chair and moved his bags out of the way.

After a moment of chewing on his lip he looked at Dean with one final suspicious look. With mock seriousness he scolded him. "No tickling. Or I'll find out where you're ticklish and make you scream like a girl." He smirked at Dean then flopped down onto the couch.

He turned his head so he could see Dean, cradling his cheek on his hands. "Okay, now what oh Jedi Master."

* * *

Dean merely grinned more at the suspicious look that Sam gave him. Sam didn’t say ‘no’ though, and Dean watched from his half reclined position on the floor while the younger boy stripped off his shirt, just like he had asked. The older boy’s eyes definitely lingering on Sam’s crotch while the younger boy took off his belt. Maybe he should have told Sam he should take his pants off as well. Though if Sam did that, Dean probably wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from caressing that perfect ass and teasing Sam’s cock till the younger boy came screaming his name... and the idea was to help ease some of the other boy’s discomfort, not make Sam even more sore.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t still admire though as he watched Sam kick off his shoes and move the things off the couch. Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little as well when Sam warned him not to try tickling him. Really, Sam shouldn’t be putting ideas into his head like that. Now that it was there he knew one day he was going to have to do it, just to listen to _Sam_ scream his head off like a girl.

When Sam was finally laying down on the couch looking at him expectantly, Dean smirked and pushed himself up off the floor. Then, before the younger boy could protest, he climbed onto the couch with Sam, straddling the other boy’s legs. He let his weight rest on Sam’s thighs, pretty much pinning Sam in place and giving Dean full access to do pretty much whatever he wanted.

“Just relax.” Dean replied, rubbing his hands together to make sure they were warm before leaned forward and let them settle on Sam’s shoulders. He’d noticed how Sam winced a little when removing his shirt and figured this was the best place to start as he began a gentle massage. His fingers carefully kneading the younger boy’s shoulder muscles and his touch gradually growing firmer when he felt some of the knots relax. 

* * *

Sam watched Dean get up, again admiring the grace and ease of movement the older boy seemed to have. The next thing he knew Dean was sitting on top of him, straddling his thighs. Sam grunted a complaint and twisted his head to look back at the senior. What the fuck?

Dean's grin and words didn't really lend themselves to Sam actually relaxing and he watched as the senior rub his hands together as if in anticipation. Shit. Didn't Dean get it when he said he was sore enough already?

He felt the shift in the young man's weight and Dean leaned forward. The touch of Dean's warm hands on his shoulders made him tense momentarily. Dammit his shoulders were sore…oh. Oh. Yeah. That felt nice.

Sam sighed as those strong hands began massaging his back. He winced as Dean found knots but he carefully, if determinedly, worked them out. Soft groans of appreciation slipped from Sam's mouth.

"Shit. God. That feels great," Sam murmured in appreciation. Dean seemed to know every sore and tender spot and worked on each area, easing Sam's aches. His muscles were beginning to feel like putty under the seniors skilled touch.

"Don't ever make me choose between a blow job and this," Sam mumbled, letting out with another groan, "'cause right now I'm not sure which feels better."

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin at the younger boy’s little sighs and moans of appreciation as his hands massaged down Sam’s shoulders to his back. He’d never really done this before, but he must be doing something right if the little sounds of pleasure Sam was making were anything to go by.

He wasn’t completely naïve to what he was doing though. Bobby had on occasion massaged his back, arms, and legs after a long work out or hunt. Especially when he was younger and still going through serious growing pains and his muscles tended to cramp up really badly, bad enough to bring him nearly to tears on more than one occasion. Christ, he was glad that was over. Sam probably still had a couple more years of growing yet though, so it was no real surprise the younger boy was feeling so sore after their workout yesterday. Dean definitely wouldn’t mind doing this for Sam after their workouts… not to mention finding other ways to help the younger boy relax.

His fingers moved down to Sam’s lower back and he couldn’t help laughing out loud when Sam said that this felt as good as a blowjob. Damn. Dean wasn’t sure whether to take that as a really good compliment to his massaging skills, or almost an insult of his blowjob skills.

Still chuckling softly, Dean leaned forward, nuzzling his lips over the back of Sam’s neck while he continued to gently massage the younger boy’s lower back.

“Oh really? When you’re feeling better I’ll have to give you another blowjob then, just so you can make an accurate comparison.” Dean whispered in Sam’s ear, grinning a little evilly and glad that the younger boy couldn’t see it as he continued, “I wonder how you’d compare it to a good rim job.” 

* * *

Sam moaned when he felt Dean's lips on his neck. "Stop that. Dude, you practically only have to look at me and you get me hard," Sam half-complained, though a part of him really didn't want Dean to stop. He was feeling better. He was sure of it. So what if he was too damned sore to lose his virginity tomorrow night…no. No, he had to take a break today. Dean had to show him some mercy. And he realized suddenly what he'd said to Dean and felt the blush crawl up his cheeks.

Well, fuck.

So what it was the truth. Dean could get him hard without too damned much effort at all. But he didn't need to tell the senior that for chrissakes. Not that Dean probably didn't have a pretty good idea of that anyhow. He was anything but clueless.

"I have an idea," Sam offered, preferring to change the subject. Well, to give something else for Dean to think about at least. Sort of. "You could give me a blow job and then follow it up with a massage. Or the other way around. That way I can compare them fairly. I wouldn't want to…oh crap, yeah, right there….mmmm…" It took him a minute to get his mind back on what he'd been saying. He tried really hard not to imagine Dean giving him a full body massage. Yeah, probably the massage should come first. This could get intimate and get Sam all hot and bothered without out hardly any effort on Dean's part. "Mmmm," Sam moaned again. Damn was Dean good at this. After another minute he finally asked, "But what's a rim job?"

 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin even more at Sam’s ‘complaint’. Oh yeah, he was definitely pleased by that. He was even more pleased by the hot flush he could practically feel spreading down the younger boy’s neck and back from his own admission.

He decided to take a bit of pity on the other boy though and returned to his original position, resting most of his weight on the back of Sam’s thighs ad he continued his massage down Sam’s back. He chuckled again at Sam’s ‘ideas’ and filed them away for later use. Letting his fingers linger on the spot that the younger boy indicated and enjoying the little moans that Sam was making in response.

Damn, his own dick was definitely reacting to the sounds that Sam was making. God, what he wouldn’t give to pull down the younger boy’s pants and let his dick rest between those firm cheeks as he rubbed against Sam’s ass. He wondered if the other boy would freak out if he mentioned it…

When Sam asked him what a rim job was, Dean raised an eyebrow. Christ, Sam really was innocent, wasn’t he? Dean laughed a little, preparing himself for Sam’s most likely ‘eww’ response as he explained.

“A rim job is when someone licks around and inside your asshole. It actually feels pretty damned good. We could try it sometime if you want.” He replied almost casually, grinning down at the younger boy.

* * *

If Dean could have seen his face, he was sure Dean would have laughed his ass off because he knew his eyes got big as shit.

"You have got to be…Dude, that's just gotta be…well, gross," Sam said. Talk about your serious 'eww' factor. Course Dean had gotten off on sticking his finger up his own ass and it sure seemed to be pleasurable to him. Sam had thought he might, well, explore that possibility, but he had been too tired to even think about it.

Shit, maybe he needed to read some porn or something. That had never really been his thing. Sure, he'd get the occasional girlie magazines, he had a thing for blondes, and enjoy the view, and he had seen some soft porn but it was girl on girl or girl on guy action. He had never seen the girls doing anything with someone's ass, not like that. Maybe it was a guy thing, something only guys liked. Would a girl do that for a guy? Damn, he was just just naïve about all this shit. He had thought he had it down. I mean, how hard was sex? But Dean was teaching him whole new things about his body that he just had never even considered. He couldn't help but wonder…Dean had been on the mark so far…maybe he shouldn't judge. But he didn't think he could ever do something like that. But he had kissed Dean after Dean gave him that unbelievable blow job and had tasted himself in Dean's mouth. He was still kind of ambivalent about it. It wasn't disgusting tasting. He didn't think of it as anything spectacular though. But licking someone's ass. No. You must really have to love someone to do that. He guessed if Dean wanted to do it to him…well, maybe. He'd have to think about that. So long as he didn't have to reciprocate. Hell, he still wasn't sure he could ever give Dean a blowjob without puking or something. He wasn't even real comfortable with the idea of even touching a guy's dick. And maybe, just a little, he wondered if he liked it, what that meant about him. Well, there wasn't anything wrong with him being bi, he supposed. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay, it just wasn't something he wanted to be. Well, he would find out tomorrow night. God, he really hoped he liked having sex with a girl as much as he was enjoying making out with Dean. If he didn't…well, then…he guessed it was better to find out now than ten years into a marriage or something. 'Cause that would suck.

"…you can ask me again, after tomorrow night, okay?" Sam finally said.

 

* * *

Dean snickered at Sam’s reaction which was just as he expected. The younger boy thought it was ‘gross’, and he supposed he couldn’t really blame the other boy for that opinion. But then, Sam had never had it done to him so he had no idea how amazing it could feel. He was sure the younger boy would have a very different opinion if Sam would just let Dean show him…

Then again, maybe Sam wouldn’t have a different opinion. Sure, the younger boy had let him give him a blowjob, but Sam gave no indication that he wanted to return the favor. Hell, Sam hadn’t even _touched_ his dick except through his jeans. Dean had a feeling that if he did give the younger boy a mind melting rim job that Sam would love it, but the other boy would probably never do it to him… and he wasn’t all that sure how to feel about that.

Dean didn’t think he’d ever had sex with a complete virgin before, and his male partners especially had at least been with other men before, so he wasn’t sure if Sam’s hesitation to reciprocate was ‘normal’ or not. All of his partners thought he was hot as hell, or at least none had said otherwise. They’d enjoyed touching him and getting him off just as much as they’d enjoyed receiving pleasure from him… at least… the ones he’d been willing for. There were definitely times when the person fucking him hadn’t given a damn whether he’d gotten off or not as long as they got what they wanted…

Dean shut down that line of thought pretty damned quick. Focusing all his attention instead on running his hands up and down the younger boy’s bare back, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him the reason Sam didn’t want to touch him was because he was forcing Sam. He’d never forced Sam… But what real choice did the younger boy have? Either let Dean fuck him or let Eric rape him? Was there really any difference? Not if Sam didn’t want Dean to fuck him…

He was a little surprised by Sam’s words. He hadn’t been expecting the younger boy to say anything more about it. Well, at least they’d managed to draw him out of his thoughts. This was why he didn’t like thinking so damned much.

“Sure.” Dean replied simply, sighing softly as he let his hand fall away from the younger boy’s back and he pushed himself off of Sam to stand. “We should probably get going.” 

* * *

Sam had to admit to being a little disappointed when Dean stopped. The massage had felt really good. He heard Dean's sigh and wondered if it was because they had to stop and go to school or if it was something else. Sam glanced at the time. They still had a little bit of time and maybe Dean…well just because he was sore, Dean wasn't. But what could he do for Dean that wouldn't get him off to? Sam pondered and knew if he sucked on Dean's nipples and rubbed him through his pants…but just because he'd gotten Dean to come without touching him yesterday, that was because Dean was already hard as a rock. He'd have to finish Dean, touch him. It wouldn't really be fair to get him up and then not finish the job. And he just couldn't. He was going to have to pony up and do it at some point though. Maybe tomorrow night, when it was the three of them, when he had a couple beers in him and after he'd proven to himself he liked girls just as much as he liked Dean.

…as much as he liked Dean.

Well fuck. He couldn't deny it. Freudian slip and all that crap, even if it was only in his head.

He slowly pushed himself up off the couch. Jesus, his muscles were like Jello. And they sure did feel a whole lot better. After he regained his feet, he stepped closer to Dean, fisted his hand in the front of Dean's shirt and pulled Dean to him and into a kiss. His free hand went to the back of Dean's head and then he released Dean's shirt and put his hand on Dean's back. He kissed Dean long, slow, and thoroughly. He finally ended the kiss and pulled back a little to look into the senior's eyes.

"Just in case you weren't sure, I think you're hellacool. Thanks for the massage. Thanks for training me. And thanks for…teaching me things." He gave Dean a final light kiss. "Just so you know," he said.

* * *

It was taking Sam a long time to move, and Dean was beginning to wonder if he should be concerned when the younger boy finally pushed himself up off the couch. Dean mentally shrugged. Maybe Sam was just still sore and the massage hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped it would. In fact, the younger boy looked a little weak kneed and Dean wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign.

Before Dean could barely open his mouth to speak though, Sam was grabbing him by the front of the shirt and kissing him hard. He couldn't deny being a bit surprised by the sudden invasion of the younger boy's tongue in his mouth, but he wasn't about to complain. Slipping his own arms around Sam's waist and holding the other boy close as their tongues twined together.

When Sam finally allowed them both a chance to catch their breath, he couldn't deny he was a bit surprised by the other boy's words and found himself fighting back a blush. He didn't know what to say. Though he supposed he should be glad that Sam thought he was 'cool'. It was better than the other boy being afraid of him or… disgusted by him… or something. He just wished that Sam thought of him as more than 'cool'.

"You're welcome." Dean finally answered, giving the younger boy a faint smile at the final kiss. "Alright. Let's go."

* * *

Sam beamed. He could see the light blush hinted at in Dean's cheeks.

"How is it I always end up shirtless around you?" Sam teased as he put his shirt back on and shrugged into his school blazer. "Wow I've got a personal trainer, body guard, masseuse, and make-out artist all in one. I think you're getting the raw end of the deal. Then again," Sam finished, mischief in his eyes, "I'm the one who's raw."

After picking up his backpacks he headed toward the door. Once Dean stepped out, he followed, locking the door behind him. He threw his extra stuff in the back seat and slid into the passenger's side seat. He ran his hand over the leather seat. The senior kept his car immaculate, at least as far as the upholstery and such went. Then again, who would want to make out in a skuzzy car.

As they headed to school, Sam's gaze lingered on the empty warehouse as they passed it. His first blowjob. He'd never forget that.

"So tomorrow night. Uhm, what should I wear? How much money should I bring? What time are we headed out to the bar? Are we spending the night somewhere?" 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh when Sam called him a ‘make out artist’, he’d certainly never heard it put quite that way before. Then he really laughed at the younger boy’s raw comment. He wasn’t really sure how to react to the other boy’s remark that he got the raw end of their deal since, though, since he had been kind of thinking much the same thing. Maybe he should stop thinking so much.

He followed Sam out of the house and they got in the car together. The younger boy was silent for most of the drive and then Sam began launching questions at him about tomorrow night.

Well, at least Sam was excited about it. Considering the first time Dean had mentioned it Sam had seemed rather reluctant.

“Dress casual. Jeans. T-shirt. Maybe a jacket. Nothing fancy. As far as money goes, depends on how much you want to drink first.” Dean said, giving Sam a grin. “If you don’t bring enough I can buy your drinks, don’t worry.”

When Sam mentioned if they were going to stay somewhere overnight, Dean decided that wasn’t a bad idea. It would probably be cheaper in general than paying by the hour. Would Sam want to stay out all night with him? It certainly seemed that way. Bobby wouldn’t suspect anything, he probably wouldn’t be happy if he stayed out all night on a school night but it wasn’t the first time either.

“We can get a room for the night, might be easier. What are you going to tell your parents?” Dean asked. 

* * *

"Dean," Sam said, "I've never been in a bar before. I don't have any idea what drinks cost. Or hotels. I've got maybe thirty-five dollars. If I need more, we'll need to stop at an ATM. As for my parents, I asked Mom if I could stay at your place, that we had an exam we were going to study for. I've got to clear it with Dad yet, but he'll probably say okay."

Sam was quiet for a minute. Softly he asked, "Can you…can you show me some things, you know, before we go? Like I told you yesterday, I don't even…I've never even had any luck with getting a condom on. I mean, I've gotten them on but I'm not sure…it didn't seem like I'd gotten them on right. And can you tell me what a girl likes? I've made out, but never even got my hand down her panties. And can I…I know this sounds all kinds of prudish and shit but…can I be the one to have sex with her first? And then you can join in? I'm going to be all self conscious and nervous, even if I do have a few drinks in me. If you were watching the first time…I just want to go solo the first time. Then…then I think it would be cool if you joined us and …I can go out in the hall if you don't want me in there, but I think…I think a threesome would be…well, losing my virginity to a girl and getting to follow that up right away with a threesome? I don't think it could get any better. And see what you do to make her come? And I think…I think I'd be able to maybe…give you some of the stuff I know you'd like me to give you. I can see what she does to make you happy. Maybe she can help me, teach me. And you can teach me about women. I can't imagine a better way of losing my virginity. If…if that sounds okay to you?" he asked hopefully. Dean had said he'd find a girl to do them both, but he actually hadn't said they would do a threesome. Maybe Dean wasn’t even in to threesomes. But after having that first time to just be a with a woman, no distractions, just her, then to have Dean there as a follow up…yeah, that really would be a good evening. If he saw her touching him, then he thought he could.

He tried to forget stroking Eric's cock, of going down on Eric's cock in order to distract Eric so he could make his escape. But with a girl there, he hopefully wouldn't freak and have everything come smacking him in the face again. _Knew you were a cock whore the second I laid eyes on you._ This would be different. It would be Dean. Not Eric. And Dean wouldn't think he was a cock whore, right?

* * *

Dean rolled his eyes a little at Sam’s complaints that he didn’t even know what drinks cost in a bar. Which reminded him, he still had to make up Sam’s fake ID tonight. He’d just said he would pay for the younger boy’s drinks. It wasn’t a big deal. But if Sam wanted to pay for his own drinks, then they’d stop at an ATM before going to the bar. Whatever.

He raised an eyebrow a little when Sam said he’d already asked his parents to stay the night over his house that night. To study for a test… and that had worked? Well, as geeky as that excuse sounded, as long as it worked that was fine. Probably a good idea for them to just rent a room for the night then because then Dean could just pretend like he was taking the younger boy home and they could go to the bar instead. He wouldn’t have to bring Sam home afterwards, and Bobby probably wouldn’t be any wiser.

“Alright.” Dean replied, figuring that was the end of the conversation, but apparently it wasn’t. Dean sighed softly. What the hell? Why did Sam want to talk about this now just as he was pulling in to the school parking lot? Yeah, they were plenty early, but still. There were better times to talk about condoms and shit. Like maybe after school when he could actually show Sam. Or even at Sam’s house before they left.

Then Sam went on and on about what they might do tomorrow night in what order… Dean sighed softly and turned off the car’s engine and turned to Sam.

“Sam. I could explain to you for hours what a girl likes, but the reason why I suggested we get a girl together was so I could show you.” Dean paused, and decided he might as well be completely honest. “I also thought that maybe if you watched me with a girl you wouldn’t be so nervous about letting me touch you. But I don’t expect you to touch me during or even after if you don’t want to. Think about what you want, and don’t worry about making me happy. If you don’t want me there at all, that’s fine. I can make sure to find a girl willing to show you whatever you want to know. Anyway, just think about what you want and let me know tomorrow night when you’re sure.”

* * *

He was thinking too much again. He was talking too much again too he guessed. And he guessed Dean didn't get it. Obviously Dean was experienced having sex with either gender. He knew how to turn on either gender. Sam wondered if Dean had ever been unsure about anything. If he was, it was apparently too far back for him to remember what it was like. Then again, he also didn't seem to be the type that people made fun of. Hw was surely the tough kid, the one that no one messed with or they ended up with a bloody nose or a couple teeth knocked out. Where as Sam was the brain. When it came to school work and science, he was confident. He could talk to people, adults, about all sorts of things like physics and astronomy and politics and all sorts of other topics. But when it came to more intimate things like sex, he just didn't have any confidence about it and no experience. Well, very little experience. In the past day and a half he'd learned more about sex than he had learned in the past two years. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he still felt so unsure about it all. He never figured he'd be involved in a threesome for his first encounter with going all the way and he never really figured on it being a one night stand. He also never figured he'd be with a guy. At all.

Confused barely covered it.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled. He didn't think he'd been 'nervous' about letting Dean touch him. He'd kissed Dean, Dean had jacked him off, given him a blow job, and gotten him hot just watching the senior jack himself off. That meant the older youth didn't want Sam nervous when he…butt fucked him.

Yeah. What did it matter? For all of Dean saying Sam didn't have to touch him, that was the deal, wasn't it? Dean protects him, teaches him to fight, and Dean gets to screw him. Dean was being considerate, trying to get Sam comfortable with the idea, but Sam figured if he told Dean hands off, his protection and training would probably end pretty damned fast. Well, he guessed it didn't really matter. Dean was giving him a choice about tomorrow night, but Dean really wanted them to do it together. He'd think on it, but odds were he'd just do it Dean's way. He didn't want the senior mad at him. Maybe…maybe he'd just let the older youth fuck him. Get it done and over with. He'd get use to it soon enough. Just like he'd get use to touching Dean's cock and sucking on it too. And…ugh…rim jobs. Yeah, he was really looking forward to that.

He gave his own little sigh. God, how had his life had gotten so fucked up in just eight days? He pushed open the door to the car, shouldered his backpack, and headed toward homeroom, feeling a whole lot less excited about tomorrow night than he had been.

* * *

Sorry? That’s all Sam had to say? And the younger boy looked like he’d just told Sam that he was going to kick his puppy or something. Seriously ,what the fuck? He told Sam that he didn’t have to be there at all. Sam could do it ‘solo’ if he wanted. Or he could show Sam what to do, but Sam didn’t have to touch him. He’d been completely honest with Sam… but it seemed like every time he was honest with the other boy Sam turned into a moody bitch.

Dean didn’t miss the brief look of disgust that crossed the younger boy’s features either as Sam sat there pouting.

When Sam got out of the car without looking at him and without saying another word, Dean felt his anger flare, but he held it back. He couldn’t stop himself from slamming his door a little before practically having to chase Sam down when the other boy started walking to his class without him.

“You know what, Sam? Just forget about it.” He said when he finally caught up with the younger boy. He didn’t just mean going out tomorrow night either. He meant Sam kissing him. He meant making out with the younger boy. If the thought of being with him disgusted Sam so damned much, he wasn’t going to force Sam to do anything more with him.

He had thought Sam actually wanted this, but he’d been wrong, or maybe he’d just been fooling himself. All Sam wanted was to not get the shit kicked out of him. Understandable. He would still look after the younger boy, he would still walk Sam back and forth to his classes, and Sam could still come to the salvage yard and Dean would train him to take care of himself. But everything else was done with. 

* * *

Sam winced when he heard the door slam. Shit. He'd pissed off the senior. Dammit, he had to learn to keep his mouth shut. He just needed to do what Dean said, or asked him to do. He'd apologized for talking too much. For being a whiny nervous kid. So why'd Dean get all pissy?

He didn't like whiny. Okay, well, Sam could keep his mouth shut. Not quite yes sir no sir, but he could do better. He would do better. Maybe…maybe after training he could…he could try to jack Dean off. If Bobby wasn't there, they could maybe…shower together. That would be kinda nice. Not like in gym. He could run his soapy hands over Dean and get Dean hard so it wouldn't take much, he could just do it and get it done with and the older teen would be happy with him. Sam had liked everything else they'd done. Maybe he'd like that too. He did like hearing Dean make those sounds he'd made when he'd been working at Dean's nipples. Maybe the girl could give Dean a blowjob and he could work on other areas. He still liked his idea. Having sex with the girl, then Dean coming in and he could watch, and the three of them could have some fun. That would be good.

He started to smile at Dean when Dean caught up with him. Jeez, he didn't mean to walk so fast, he was just lost in thought and getting more excited about tomorrow night after all. It would work out fine. He just had to stop being nervous.

And then he saw Dean's face. The senior's words hit him like a two by four right between the eyes. Sam froze, staring at Dean. Forget it? Forget what? Tomorrow night? Their arrangement? Oh shit was Dean going to stop sponsoring him? Was he on his own again? …he wasn't going to get to kiss Dean again?

"I said I was sorry I was talking so much. I'll do better, Dean, I swear I will." Sam sucked in a breath, knowing he looked scared. He straightened and swallowed hard, trying to look more confident. "I won't complain about anything. Whatever you want. You just tell me what you want. Just please…" he couldn't help it and he knew it was pathetic and Dean would probably be even more disgusted with his weak whiny ass than he already was. "…please don't stop being my sponsor." He met Dean's angry green eyes, his own hazel eyes pleading, begging him to forgive him.

 

* * *

Dean stopped walking when Sam did, and at first he was a little shocked by the naked fear plain as day on the younger boy’s face, then he realized what Sam must think he meant. Shit. God damn it. Why the hell did they keep doing this? It was like they were having two completely different conversations or something in a different language and neither of them knew what the other was talking about.

“Jesus Christ, Sam, I didn’t mean…” The older boy started then stopped knowing he sounded irritated. Probably because he was irritated, at the situation more than Sam, but he knew the younger boy would probably mistake that too and Sam was practically groveling to him already. So he took a deep breath and let it out slow and began again.

“I didn’t mean I was going to stop watching your back, Sam. I just meant…” Dean rubbed his fingers through his hair, why the hell was this so hard? But he knew now he had to do this. What they’d been doing… it wasn’t right. Especially now with Sam promising to do _whatever he wanted_. That’s not what he wanted, damn it. He didn’t want a whore, or some kind of sex slave.

“It’s not about what I want, ok? It’s about what you want. I’m not trying to force you to be gay or anything so… let’s just forget it, alright?”

* * *

Sam practically held his breath. When Dean started to speak, it was pretty clear to Sam he had upset the senior even more and he felt a lead weight settle in his stomach. A day. They'd only had a day at school, and already Dean was sick of him.

But then Dean said he wasn't going to stop sponsoring him and that horrible weight melted away, but he could see Dean was still upset about something. Sam tilted his head. Dean had told him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want. He had said that a couple times. Sam just didn't really believe it. Just figured Dean was being nice and trying to make him feel more in control. He had patiently listened to Sam when Sam said he couldn't do something and said it was okay. But Sam was pretty certain Dean wanted him. Dean really liked Sam, liked him like a boyfriend sort of like.

Sam reached out and touched Dean's chest. "But I like making out with you. I like kissing you. I like making you excited. I don't…I don't want to give you up. Okay, maybe I didn't believe that you'd still protect me if I didn't put out. But I heard you this time. I just…shit Dean, I've barely known you a week. I'm just really…nervous I guess. I don't think it would matter if you were Michelle—she's this blonde cheerleader at my old school that I had the hots for—I just can't move forward as fast as you want me too." Sam smiled a little shyly then. "I really liked yesterday and the day before with you, though." His smile shifted to confusion. "Blowjobs, rimjobs, that sounds kinda gross, but going down on a girl, well, that sounds a little gross too actually. It's not fair to you that you're willing to do all this for me and I'm still building up my confidence to even try some of it for you.

"I really, really think I need to get laid by a girl, one who knows what she likes. Being with a girl, that's the world view I grew up with. Being with a guy never ever crossed my mind. But I've liked it so far. Me being all nervous, it's not just us both being guys." Sam blushed and sort of mumbled the next. "It's being intimate. With anyone."

He looked back up into Dean's eyes and took a steadying breath. "If you still want to go, I know what I want tomorrow night. I want to go the first round solo. Just me and her. Then I want you to join us. If you can't deal with me being slow to give back, okay, we don't have to do anything anymore. But if you'll give me a little time, at least let me find out if I like it when I finally get the nerve to do it, that would be good. Jesus, I don't even know if I'm going to be able to go down on a girl yet either."

* * *

Dean saw the fear fade from Sam’s eyes and was glad for that at least. At least the younger boy believed him. That Dean would still look after him, take care of him, and protect him even without ‘payment’. Oddly enough, he wasn’t all that disappointed. Well, sure, he was disappointed but he didn’t feel cheated or anything. Maybe his reasons for wanting to help Sam in the beginning were more than a little selfish, when Sam had ‘asked’ him to sponsor him… he’d been thinking with his damned dick more than anything… but it was different now.

He didn’t Sam to be his ‘whore’. If he really wanted random sex, he could get that anywhere and pretty much anytime he wanted. But Sam was different. Dean didn’t want it to be like that and if Sam didn’t really want him, then so be it. That didn’t change how Dean felt about the younger boy, and he wasn’t going to let a scumbag like Eric hurt Sam.

Though when Sam reached out to touch his chest and started telling him he’d liked it when… Dean frowned a little doubtfully. For a moment he worried that Sam was _still_ just telling him what he thought he wanted to hear… but maybe not.

Michelle? Who… Dean’s eyebrows rose a bit in surprise and he didn’t know if he should be amused or offended at Sam comparing him to some blonde cheerleader chick. In the end had to fight back the smile pulling at his lips, amusement winning.

He understood. Sam wasn’t like him. Dean was used to one night stands. Flirt, fuck, and leave. But it wasn’t going to be like that with Sam. Hell, Dean didn’t even want it to be like that with Sam. He was just used to things happening a lot quicker and he’d mistaken that for unwillingness on Sam’s part. Dean couldn’t help but laugh when Sam said he still thought blowjobs and rimjobs were gross, but so did going down on a girl. Well, at least Sam was disgusted equally? He supposed he couldn’t really blame the boy. Maybe they should watch some porn before they went out tomorrow, just so Sam could get over his ‘eww’ factor before hand and not when he was actually with the girl.

Well, guess they were going out tomorrow after all. If Sam really wanted to do the girl solo… ok, that was fine. He’d give Sam the time to figure things out for himself and try to be more patient.

“Alright. I get it now. I can wait. Glad we’re at least on the same page.” Dean finally said when the younger boy let him get a word in edgewise. Yup, Sam still liked to talk. “We can still go out if you want, and you can do her first.”

Dean’s grin widened.

“I’ll make sure she goes easy on you. Completely vanilla.”

* * *

Sam sighed in relief when Dean's anger faded from his eyes though he wasn't really certain what Dean thought was funny about Sam having a crush on a cheerleader. If Dean saw her he would definitely think she was hot. Hell, Dean would probably sweet talk her into putting out in the first conversation they held.

When Dean confirmed he finally heard Sam about Sam needing to slow down, Sam felt like it mirrored him listening when Dean said Sam didn't have to do anything. Knowing he didn't have to do anything at all, that he could honestly tell Dean 'no,' made a knot in his chest he hadn't even been aware of loosen. He wasn't…whoring…himself out. Now, it was all up to him to do it or not. Maybe he would find that doing it with a guy just didn't really ring his bell. Maybe it would, but he could move at his own pace. He smirked to himself. Yeah, he had no doubt Dean would be encouraging him to put it into high gear, but that was okay.

"Just don't get frustrated with a little stop and start action okay? I might try and find I'm not ready to do something I thought I was. I'm not looking to tease you but…well, I just don't know, okay?

He furrowed his brow and Dean's final comment. "What do you mean, 'completely vanilla?' Is that a…good thing?"

* * *

Dean sighed a little when Sam asked him not to get ‘frustrated’ with some stop and go action. Well, that was something he wasn’t sure he could completely promise. He could promise Sam he wouldn’t get pissed off or anything, but any guy would get frustrated by a bad case of blue balls. Well, he supposed he should just resign himself to having many cases of blue balls in the near future.

“I can tell you’re going to give me the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had in my life.” Dean teased the younger boy, smirking a little. He hoped that Sam realized he was only joking, well, half joking anyway.

Then Sam was asking him what ‘vanilla’ meant, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh out loud and throw a companionable arm around Sam’s shoulders. Beginning to lead the younger boy along the path from the parking lot to the school since others were beginning to arrive and he wanted to get Sam into his class before it got too crowded. Besides, this wasn’t exactly a conversation he wanted everyone to be eavesdropping on.

“Oh, Sammy, what am I going to do with you? Haven’t you ever watched porn in your life? Vanilla means no kinky shit. No spanking or rim jobs required. Just straight up insert tab A into slot B, rinse and repeat, if you know what I mean.” Dean replied, grinning broadly. 

* * *

Sam could tell Dean wasn't thrilled with the idea that Sam might be an unintentional tease, and he couldn't blame him. He'd try to make certain he didn't try something until he really was ready to do it. He blushed a little at the blue balls comment.

"I'll try not to," Sam told him, but then shrugged a little helplessly.

He let Dean begin to head them to class and leaned in just a little closer to his protector. He reminded himself they were essentially back in enemy territory.

He started to protest that he had watched porn, but it was soft porn and probably not much more than "M" rated movies he supposed. The love making didn't get real crazy or exotic in the couple that he'd seen. Watching Dean jack off had gotten him way hotter than the movies he had seen. Spanking? Why would spanking be a turn on? He sighed in frustration. There really ought to be a lovemaking class. Maybe there was a lovemaking for idiots book out there. Or Kinks for idiots. Because he sure felt like a naïve idiot about the whole thing. He couldn't stop the snort at Dean's tab A, slot B comment. That's pretty much what he had always figured sex was. Some fingering, some sucking on nipples, kissing and hickeys, and then the badda-bing badda-boom. He suddenly wondered if there was something sensual about every part of the body and started to ask and suddenly clamped his mouth shut. They were in the middle of the school campus. This was hardly the place to ask such a stupid question. Already some of the things they had been talking about, they probably shouldn't have been. He wondered if they'd get to make out at lunchtime, then remembered how sore he was. Well…maybe they could a little bit. Assuming Dean didn't get himself another detention. Sam was behind on his school work though. If Dean got detention he could maybe get caught up. Dean or homework…Dean! Sam thought a little gleefully. Yeah, he'd take making out with Dean over homework most any day. OF course, if he let his grades start to fall, there might be questions raised. No, he better keep up his grades. He didn't want any questions or any problems.

The teacher was already in home room and Sam looked up at Dean and nodded. "Thanks. See you." He gave Dean a small knowing smile, and his eyes clearly told Dean he'd really like to plant one helluva kiss on him. After making sure Dean got the message, he turned and walked into class, settling into a seat by the wall and near the door.  


* * *

  


Dean was glad to see that Sam’s teacher was already in the classroom, not that he minded waiting around with the younger boy for the teacher to show up, but he thought it best not to test his teacher’s patience today. The last thing Dean really wanted was to spend the lunch period in detention again. Or even after school detention if the bastard really wanted to be a dick about it.

The look the younger boy gave him before he left made Dean want to lean in and capture Sam’s lips with his own in a long dirty kiss right in front of everyone. He would have loved to see the looks on everyone’s faces, but of course he didn’t do that. Not only would that definitely land him in detention, suspension, or even expulsion but it would surely get Sam in trouble as well, and Dean didn’t want that.

So Dean merely returned Sam’s too heated look with one of his own, which would probably get more than a few whispers going from anyone watching anyway, before he turned and left the room. Pleased to see the position that Sam took up before he left. The boy was learning.

*

The day went by pretty normally. Nothing really out of the ordinary happened. People got out of his and Sam’s way. Sam wasn’t bothered, he was sure the younger boy would have told him if he was, and they didn’t see Eric or his cronies anywhere at all. Not even in the hall, and Dean wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or a little concerned at that.

Of course he wasn’t so naïve to believe that the other senior had given up so easily, but Dean was glad that his message had apparently been understood by all the other students. Sam was off limits, and anyone who touched the younger boy would have him to deal with.

By the time lunch rolled around, Dean was more than ready to get off the school grounds for a while.

“Wanna get a burger or something off campus?” Dean suggested to the younger boy after meeting Sam outside his classroom before lunch. 

* * *

Sam had actually been able to focus on the teachers in his classes. Well, except for the memory of the look in Dean's eyes when he left homeroom. That stuck with Sam like glue and did tend to divert his attention periodically from his studies and the teacher's lecture.

Nobody messed with him, no one even tried as they had the day before. As before, the students got out of their way and Sam had to admit, he liked the feeling. He knew it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Dean, but that was okay. It still felt good.

A little unnerving was that Eric and his cadre weren't around. Sam could only hope that the young men had simply decided to skip school rather than be up to something…unpleasant. But really, was Sam really worth that much trouble? He wanted to believe Eric wouldn't do something vengeful or spiteful, but he'd seen what was below that friendly exterior. Black evil. And he definitely did not want to run into Eric and the others without Dean at his back.

His stomach was growling even before the lunch bell rang. He smiled when he saw Dean, but couldn't help but watch for Eric. At Dean's suggestion Sam made a face.

"Dude, you've ruined me when it comes to burgers. How about tacos or something? And off campus sounds good. Real good," Sam said, dropping his backpack off in his locker and walking with Dean out to the Impala.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh when Sam complained that he had ‘ruined’ him when it came to burgers and he couldn’t help but hope that he had ruined Sam for a few other things as well. For instance, if the girl agreed to blow Sam then the younger boy might decide he liked Dean blowing him better.

Damn it… he wasn’t getting jealous or something was he? How fucking girly was that? And over a friggen one night stand that was _his_ idea in the first place. But Dean was only beginning to understand now how all his scheming could backfire on him. After all, Sam had already made it clear that he wanted to go solo when Dean had been really hoping the younger boy might want to do it together. What if after Sam popped his cherry he decided that he definitely liked women better and didn’t want to have anything to do with Dean anymore?

He’d already told the younger boy that they could stop, that he wasn’t trying to force Sam to be gay or anything, and he’d meant it. Sam had said that he… liked him… liked doing things with him, but what if that was just because Sam hadn’t been with anyone else yet? He had nothing to compare it to. Not to mention Sam was a horny teenager and nearly anything could get him off at this age without much effort.

Dean realized that he hadn’t answered Sam’s question yet and shook himself out of his thoughts, ordering himself to stop acting like a fucking chick. It wasn’t like he was Sam’s fucking boyfriend or anything, Sam could stick his dick anywhere he wanted, and the younger boy had every right to say no to him if that’s what he wanted. It wasn’t like Dean couldn’t find plenty of people willing to do him. But they wouldn’t be Sam…

“Taco’s sound good.” Dean finally answered, ordering himself once again to knock off the clingy chick thoughts. They were distracting him, and he couldn’t allow himself distractions. Not here. He couldn’t exactly protect Sam if he had his head up his ass. Just because no one had tried to bother Sam yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t. He couldn’t be distracted.

They made it to the car though without incident, and when they got in Dean felt himself relax a little.

“Got anyplace in mind?” Dean asked as he started the car and put one of his tapes in the player. 

* * *

He liked Dean's laugh, just like he liked Dean's smile but was a little surprised at Dean's slow response. Maybe Dean didn't like Mexican? Sam didn't really care. Deli sandwiches, pizza, whatever. He would be fine with any of it. He glanced at Dean a little questioningly, waiting, and saw a strange array of emotions pass over the senior's face and it almost made Sam laugh. Now Dean was the one thinking too much. He had no idea what Dean was thinking about, though he suspected it was about him. His mind went all sorts of places as to exactly what Dean might be pondering and some of them made him all tingly at the thought. Then he reminded himself he was sore and that sort of put a damper on some of those thoughts. When Dean finally agreed to his suggestion, Sam smiled. He resisted the urge to tease Dean about thinking too much. He would have to remember it though, as fodder for future teasing.

When they got in the car and Dean asked him where he had in mind, Sam was still half pondering what Dean might have been thinking about. Mexican food. Estaban's was good and not too close and not too far from campus. It wasn't a place the kids from this school would probably go to, too low-brow and all that. It was in the direction of his house, a few blocks away from the warehouse where Dean had given him that mind-melting blow job.  
  
"The warehouse?" popped out of Sam's mouth before he realized what he was saying and his eyes grew big and he flushed red. "Uhm, Estaban's. Near the warehouse," Sam said quickly, trying to clarify, but he couldn't deny the thought of grabbing food and heading to the warehouse sounded good. "Their tacos are really good," Sam added, but still felt the heat in his cheeks.

* * *

When Sam mentioned the warehouse as their possible destination Dean looked at the younger boy, raising an eyebrow and surprise. Seeing the expression on Sam’s face and how red the other boy was becoming as he rushed to clarify Dean couldn’t help bursting out laughing again.

“Estaban’s, alright.” Dean replied, still snickering a little as he pulled the car out of their parking space in his usual display of burning rubber and blaring music, sending several other students hurrying to get out of his way. Though once they were a little ways down the road, Dean let his hand drift across the seat between them to rest on Sam’s thigh. Much like that morning they had spent at the warehouse, but he simply let it rest there rather than rubbing or caressing Sam higher up. Reminding himself that he should behave himself because the younger boy was sore.

He had an idea where the restaurant was, though he’d never been there he was sure he’d driven past at least a couple times. Turning onto Nielsen street where the warehouse was, he gave Sam’s thigh a little squeeze, but that was all. As promised a little further down the road was a little nondescript restaurant with the name “Estaban’s” on a sign over the doorway. It definitely didn’t look like the sort of place most of the rich prep school kids would frequent, so he felt comfortable relaxing a little as he parked and turned off the ignition. 

* * *

When Dean started laughing it made Sam's cheeks burn worse. Dammit, it wasn't fair that Sam was blushing ten times a day and he was lucky to get Dean to blush once. It was also pretty stupid that any little sexual innuendo had him turning all red with embarrassment. God, it wasn't like he was naïve…fuck. Yeah he was naïve. Naïve as hell. Eric had proven it. Dean had proven it. Hell, even Stacy had proven it. He finally just sank back into the seat and hooked his seat belt on, especially as Dean was making his typical exit. It was a wonder he didn't have to get new tires every month!

Sam felt Dean's hand on his leg and felt his breath hitch. Dean didn't do anything more though. Just set it there, like a girl and a guy might hold hands or something. Just having physical contact with each other. Sam didn't mind and let his legs fall open a little so he was within easier reach of Dean. It was nice, the physical contact. He was a little surprised Dean's mere touch usually made him start to get hard but yet he wasn't getting hard. A part of him was thanking God. Maybe they could touch each without him immediately getting a hard on for the young man. That would be nice. Of course, kissing Dean right now would be nice too…

He rolled his eyes at himself. Couldn't he sit with Dean for more than ten minutes without thinking about making out with the guy? He didn't touch Dean's hand because he knew if he did he probably would start running his fingers over the senior's hand, maybe encourage Dean's hand a little further over and a little higher and God dammit, he was sore enough. Still, he smiled, especially when Dean squeezed his thigh. He saw Dean's gaze searching for the restaurant and was about to point it out when it was obvious the senior spotted it.

When Dean took his hand off Sam's thigh to put the car in park and turn off the ignition, Sam immediately missed the comforting touch. Sam looked over at Dean. "They know me here. We get food here every couple weeks or so. So…" His gaze dropped from Dean's eyes to his lips, then reluctantly pulled his gaze back to Dean's eyes. "So we probably should behave ourselves."

Sam undid the seat belt and pushed open the door. "I see how come your biceps are like steel. Your car door is freaking heavy," Sam said, grinning at him then got out. He headed for the front door to the restaurant. "We can eat in or get it to go. You're choice. They serve pretty fast. If you've never had their tacos, you have to try them. They're great. Oh, and their sopapillas for dessert are awesome. They're served with a honey syrup."

He opened the door and walked in, his eyes scanning the place. Like he figured, no one from school was here and that made him relax just a little bit. He plopped down at a table. The server was there with water and menus immediately. Chips and salsa were there before Dean had hardly sat down. Sam immediately started munching on the chips. "Lunch menu is on the back," Sam said, flipping Dean's menu over for him. He already knew what he wanted, the Estaban platter with tacos and rice and beans and a sopapilla.

* * *

When Sam told him that he and his family ate here often, Dean nodded in understanding. It wasn’t like he was planning on making out with the younger boy at the table or anything, there was always a chance anything that they did might get back to Bobby or Sam’s parents through the grape vine so they had to be careful anyway. The bar Dean was planning to take Sam to was two towns away even, just to be safe.

Though he couldn’t deny when Sam’s eyes drifted down to his lips he kind of wished he could lean across the seat and capture the younger boy’s lips with his own. Dean sighed as Sam leaned away and open the door. Behave. Yeah. Easier said than done.

Dean snorted softly when Sam complained about his door and he got out of the car following the younger boy inside. Since Sam went to sit down at a table he decided they might as well eat here. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up the take out trash from his car.

He was a bit surprised, but in a pleasant way, when the waiter brought them chips and salsa right out. Dean grabbed a few himself and had to admit they were pretty good. Maybe he’d mention this place to Bobby, the older man liked Mexican food, and the prices were pretty decent he noticed when Sam turned his menu over.

Since he’d never been here before he decided to take Sam’s advice and ordered the same as the younger boy when the waiter returned, then he sat back munching on chips as he watched Sam across from him. Even though he was supposed to behave, he let his leg brush up against Sam’s underneath the table. 

* * *

Sam was happily eating his chips when he felt Dean's leg. He gave Dean a good natured glare.

"You're incorrigible," Sam said, shaking his head with a soft laugh. He'd never actually played 'footsies' or anything like it under a table before. He reached under the table and leaned down a little so he could reach Dean's knee and promptly tickled the backside of it. He grinned when he saw Dean jump. Ah hah. A ticklish spot. Of course, he had the same ticklish spot which is why he checked there.

Sam straightened up, grinning. "I'll be sure to remember that spot," Sam teased. He stretched out his own leg and returned the favor. The tablecloths were long enough, he didn't figure anyone would really take notice. So long as that was all they did.

Tilting his head a little as he rubbed his leg against Dean's in mild retribution he asked, "So what's Bobby do with all those books he collects? I noticed he was taking notes on werewolves. At least I saw that written on a couple of the sticky notes when I walked by the desk. Does he write? Or do research for writers about mythical monsters? Or was he just indexing them or something? I'd love to look at some of his books if he'd let me. And if he's doing research or indexing them or something, I'd be happy to help if I get my homework done and have time. Mom used to tell me stories about shadows and demons and how they were defeated. I…have dreams sometimes and she'd always have answers for me on how to kill the things in my dreams." He smiled a little. "Always made me feel safer."

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin, pleased with himself, at Sam’s surprised look followed by the younger boy’s glare and calling him ‘incorrigible’. Yeah, he supposed he was, but what could he say? Sam made him horny as hell and he liked touching the younger boy. Dean was more than a bit surprised, though not necessarily in a bad way, when the other boy scooted down in his seat, and grabbed his knee.

At least it wasn’t all that bad until Sam started tickling him and Dean immediately sat up with a jerk. Damn it. The last thing he probably needed was for Sam to know just how ticklish he was.

“Bitch.” Dean responded to the other boy’s teasing with a glare at Sam’s far too pleased grin, though he was sure he sounded far more amused than annoyed, and his glare was ruined by the smile tugging at his own lips. Well, hell, if Sam wanted to play, Dean could certainly give as good as he got. Next time they were alone the tickle war would be on and he would enjoy finding every spot to make the boy scream in an entirely different way.

When Sam sat back up but he felt the other boy’s leg brushing against his own under the table Dean couldn’t help but smile more, enjoying the contact. Then that look passed over Sam’s face that Dean had begun dubbing the ‘curious puppy’ look and he knew Sam was going to start asking questions that he probably didn’t want to answer.

He was right. Though in hindsight they probably should have known better than to leave those kinds of books and notes laying out in the open when Sam had shown interest in them before. He was going to have to keep a closer eye on Sam and tell Bobby to make sure any hunter stuff was stashed better with the younger boy around.

Dean shrugged nonchalantly and reached for the chips again.

“Nah, he doesn’t write or anything. But Bobby’s always been interested in different kinds of mythology. You’d be surprised how different cultures describe the same creatures in different ways. Like werewolves. Some cultures say they turn into real wolves, others say they turn into half man half wolf, and others say how they don’t change at all except in personality. But all the myths have one thing in common, silver kills them.” Dean paused for a second wondering if he’d maybe said too much then he simply grinned and shrugged. “It’s pretty interesting actually. You’ll have to ask Bobby if you want to look at the books. Some of them are pretty old and valuable. He probably wouldn’t mind the help though.”

When Sam mentioned his mom telling him stories about how to kill demons and shit, Dean couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow but then mentally shrugged. He’d always thought parents just told their kids not to be afraid of what was in the dark because it wasn’t real, but what would he know about that? Maybe some parents made up stories about how to kill monsters to make their kids feel better. Maybe that’s how all the varying lore about things like werewolves and vampires got started, most of it bullshit. Like werewolves turning into half men half dogs and vampires being killed by a stake through the heart. 

* * *

"I'd be glad to help. I find that stuff cool. So many different legends and things. In Japan they have a vampire cat. And water spirits that can be helpful if you can swing the right deal, if you have something they want. And shadow demons. Mom knows all about that sort of stuff. Dad used to get on her when she would start telling me too many tales." He laughed. "I think Dad thought they'd make my nightmares worse."

Sam nodded when Dean mentioned the silver. "Yeah, mom always said silver was one of the best defenses against a lot of stuff. She even gave me a silver stiletto to keep by my bed. Told me if I had a bad dream to remember it was there in reach, and in my dream I could reach out and just have it." He seemed a little embarrassed. "I use to have a lot of nightmares. Sometimes….well, I guess that's really stupid and lame. Guess it was okay when I was like eight or nine, but kind of stupid now." He didn't add that he still had the nightmares, but mostly, they were of fire and a dark figure with yellow eyes. Sometimes they were of other things, but mostly just yellow eyes.

"I'll ask Bobby if I can look at his books and help. You get into those legends? Are there any monsters with yellow eyes? Human kind of, but yellow eyes? It was always a theme in my dreams. Probably saw it on a monster movie or something."

Sam looked up when the waiter returned with their food. He nodded his thanks. "Told you they were fast." 

* * *

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Sam would be so interested in Bobby’s books since the younger boy had admitted freely what a geek/nerd he was. Dean really didn’t think that Bobby would mind too much the other boy taking a look at some of them, though they’d have to make sure to stow away the really ‘special’ books where Sam couldn’t find them. Most of the bastards at school thought that he and Bobby were demon worshipers. He certainly didn’t want Sam getting the same ideas about them.

Dean snorted softly when Sam mentioned a ‘vampire cat’ creature. He might have to ask Bobby about that one. The ‘helpful’ water spirits though were most likely demons of some kind and deals with demons always came at a high price. Shadow demons… that was actually a pretty accurate description of a demon in its true form. Nothing but black smoke and shadow.

Again, he couldn’t help being surprised yet again when Sam mentioned his mother giving him a silver knife to keep by the bed. But maybe it wasn’t so strange. Bobby had done much the same for him when he came to live with the older man and in Bobby’s home was the first time he had felt safe since he was three years old.

Dean began to shake his head, to tell Sam that he didn’t think it was ‘stupid’ to still have nightmares at the younger boy’s age. After all, Dean still had his own share of nightmares even now after all these years. So he could completely understand.

But when Sam said what he dreamed of… yellow eyes… Dean couldn’t help but freeze, his blood going ice cold. Bobby had tried to help him find the thing that had killed his parents when he was three years old. So far they didn’t have much success and Dean knew part of that was his fault. He hadn’t been able to give Bobby much to go on. Though the heat and smoke he had really only been able to make out one detail… yellow eyes…

That had to just be a coincidence though. Like Sam said, he’d probably just seen it in a movie or something as a kid. It couldn’t be anything more than that… The arrival of their food thankfully broke him from his paralyzed state, and he gave the younger boy a slight shrug before he started in on the food on his plate.

“Probably just from a movie, like you said.”

* * *

Sam saw the way Dean's breath seemed to catch when he mentioned 'yellow eyes' and frowned. Something flashed across Dean's face and he paled just a little bit. Why in the world would the senior freak over that? Maybe it was some monster movie, something that had given Dean nightmares too. Sure was a helluva a monster movie apparently.

"Yeah, well, if you figure out which one, you let me know, huh? I want to write the movie maker a letter and cuss them out for all my nightmares!" Sam said, trying to sound lighthearted about it, but honestly, the fact Dean had sort of freaked had driven a spike of fresh fear through him. God, he hated those nightmares. And it was a pretty sure bet he'd end up having one tonight now. Yeah, he'd like to throttle that movie maker.

Seeing the way Dean dug into the meal, he was pleased that the senior seemed to like the food. Eric would have never eaten in such 'a dump.' His loss.

Dammit. Why'd he have to think of Eric?

Sam rubbed his leg against Dean just a little bit, just to sort of reassure himself. He had Dean. Dean would keep him safe. And he liked Dean. There wasn't anything deep and dark underneath Dean's facade, at least, not when it came to him and how he felt about Sam. At least he didn't think there was. Sure, the senior was quick to anger and they seemed to miscommunicate a lot, and there was still that issue with that cell in the basement's basement…okay, he just was going to stop thinking dammit.

"You know if we eat fast enough, we'll still have some time before we have to go back to school," Sam said, licking some sour cream off of his fingers and grinning at Dean.

* * *

The food was actually pretty damned good, just as Sam had promised, and Dean was grateful for the pleasant distraction from the direction their discussion had taken. Though it wasn't Sam's fault, the younger boy couldn't possibly know how bringing up 'yellow eyes' would affect him. How it would bring back all the memories of fire and choking smoke. Of his mother's scream before he'd seen her dead and burning on the ceiling. His baby brother's cries as his father placed him in his arms, watching his father run into that inferno before he'd obeyed and ran outside to 'safety'. Standing there, watching his home burn down with his parents inside. Then when the ones who were supposed to help him came, all they did was take his brother away from him…

Dean felt the light brush of Sam's leg against his own and he looked up. The younger boy looked more than a little troubled even though he was trying to hide it, and Dean felt like kicking himself a little, knowing it was his fault. Sam had obviously noticed his reaction and he'd freaked Sam out, but Sam had just taken him completely by surprise, there was really no way for him to hide his reaction.

He gave the younger boy a slight smile, letting his leg rub against Sam's again. He couldn't help but return Sam's rather naughty grin at the younger boy's words and how the boy licked at his fingers.

"You are a damned tease, you know that?" Dean said then shoved about half of one of his taco into his mouth all at once.

* * *

He was glad when Dean smiled back and then when that smile turned devilish, it made Sam's stomach do a mini flip-flop. He broke into outright laughter when Dean shoved like the whole taco into his mouth.

"I warned you I was probably going to be one," Sam said, scraping up the refried beans with his spoon and eating them quickly.

Eating practically became a race for both of them and Sam was laughing through half of it, trying not to spit out lettuce and tomatoes and taco shells in the process.

He was still chewing when he dug out twelve dollars and tossed it on the table. "I'm paying for lunch," he said swallowing hastily and washing the last of the food down with his water. Seeing Dean was done, he stood, brushing his clothes free of chip remnants. "Let's go, Obi wan," Sam said and headed for the door, a bounce in his step. They didn't have a lot of time, but they had a little time before they had to go back to school. If he wasn't so sore and wanted to get a little less sore for tomorrow, he might suggest skipping out on the rest of the day.

Mentally he shook his head at himself. Him. Wanting to skip school. He never thought he'd see the day. Of course, that was before he had to deal with the assholes at Chalmers. And it wasn't like he wanted to make out with Dean the whole rest of the afternoon, but making out, and then just hanging out, and maybe making out a little more, then some training and some of Dean's burgers. Yeah, that sounded like a good day. A helluva lot better than sitting in classes the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

It was almost a shame to rush through eating the food because it was damned good, but it was also funny as hell when Sam began to shovel his food into his mouth almost as fast as Dean. They had to look completely ridiculous, their cheeks puffed out like gerbils shoveling all that could fit into their mouths at once. Not that Dean really cared. He was having the time of his life. When Sam started laughing, almost spraying him with bits of taco, Dean couldn’t help but laugh as well trying his damndest not to choke on his food in the process.

Dean shoved the last of his tacos into his mouth and reached for his wallet at the same time, but Sam beat him to it, throwing the money down on the table first. Dean only grinned around his mouthful of food and shrugged, putting his wallet away, and standing up. He didn’t mind Sam paying for their lunch, since he was probably going to be paying for Sam’s drinks tomorrow night.

He was glad that the younger boy seemed to be in a much better mood as he followed Sam out the door to the car. In fact, Dean was a little bit surprised he was in such a good mood as well. Considering the direction their discussion had briefly taken. Dean didn’t want to think about that right now though. All he wanted to think about was what they could do in the limited time that they had that Sam wasn’t too sore for.

As Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car grinning at the expression on Sam’s face he almost didn’t hear the screech of tires. As if in slow motion he turned and saw the car speeding towards him, taking off the side mirror of the car parked behind his own. Even as he started to move he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get out of the way in time. He heard the shrieking of metal against metal and the crunch of shattering glass. The pain was almost an afterthought as he managed to throw himself over the hood of his own car to avoid being sandwiched between the two cars and landing hard on the asphalt. 

* * *

  


Sam waited at the passenger's side door, knowing Dean would lean across and unlock his door after he got in. He watched Dean walk toward the driver's side door and knew both of them had shit eating grins on their faces. He was really glad they'd come here for lunch, and equally glad the warehouse was just a few blocks away. He could eat Mexican twenty-four seven, well if you mixed in some burgers and pizza occasionally, so maybe this would become a tradition for them. That would be kind of cool. A 'their' place to go to. It also meant he probably wouldn't be able to come here with his parents without thinking of Dean and blushing his fool head off. He laughed at himself for that thought. Yeah and how would he explain that to his parents?

His head snapped left when he heard the tires. He screamed Dean's name as the car careened into the side of the Impala, as the driver's side window shattered like ice, as he saw Dean throw himself over the hood in an effort to avoid the dark green car. Dean had been clipped by the car and Sam knew it. He rushed to Dean but watched to make certain the car was speeding away rather than coming back for a second pass. He tried to catch the license or get a look at the drive but he was at the wrong angle and couldn't see either. He watched it tear out of the parking lot and as his eyes followed it, he saw the red car parked on the street pull away. Eric's car.

He knelt at the senior's side. "Dean, are you okay? Dean?" Sam asked worriedly. He heard someone from the restaurant call if he needed an ambulance.

That son of a bitch was going to pay for this, pay like he couldn't believe, Sam thought savagely. And the payment was going to be worse dependent upon just how badly Dean was hurt. He might not know how to fight an he might not by as physically strong as Eric and his friends, but science and computers? Those two things he knew.

You shouldn't piss off guys with money. You shouldn't piss of guys with weapons. And you shouldn't piss off guys with brains.

"Dean?" Sam said again, gingerly brushing some hair off of Dean's scraped and bleeding forehead.

* * *

He must have blacked out for a minute or two. Dean knew it couldn’t have been too long, considering he was still lying in the street instead of in an ambulance or hospital or something. His head was pounding like someone was using a jackhammer inside of it and his whole left side throbbed with pain from his shoulder to his hip. Hell, he hurt all over really, but his left side definitely hurt the worst. That must have been where the car trying to run him down had clipped him…

God damned son of a bitch had tried to purposefully run him down, he was sure of it. Oh yeah, he remembered that. Must not have a concussion then. Or at least, only a mild one. He hurt, but he didn’t think anything was broken. All in all, he was pretty damned lucky. Of course, if he’d been paying attention in the first place, he might not be lying here at all.

Feeling the gentle brush of the fingers across his forehead, Dean blinked his eyes open and winced as he turned his head slowly towards the sound of Sam’s voice. It took him a minute to focus on the younger boy’s worried face. Yeah, maybe a slight concussion then.

“Fine… I’m fine…” Dean managed, shifting and trying to get his arms underneath him to push himself up. His left shoulder protested vehemently, but it was the sharp pain in his side that made him gasp and abort his efforts, falling back to the pavement with a low groan.

His hand went to his side, gently probing. He wasn’t all that surprised to feel that his shirt was damp and when he pulled his hand away his fingers were bloody. A piece of metal or glass must have cut him when the car clipped him. Dean couldn’t really tell, but it didn’t feel all that long or deep, but it might need stitches. Something like that didn’t need a hospital visit Bobby could take care of it. Of course getting to the salvage yard might be a little difficult right now… 

* * *

Relief filled Sam when Dean's eyes finally opened but the pain he saw in the young man's face and the way his eyes were slow to focus clinched it.

"Yes!" he yelled back to the guy at the restaurant. Dean was definitely going to go to the hospital. He was no medic but he'd seen enough TV to know unfocused eyes and that Dean had been knocked senseless, even if only briefly, were bad signs.

While he was yelling for the ambulance Dean tried to get up. "Lie still you idiot. You just got hit by a car." His eyes widened when he saw the blood on Dean's hand when he pulled it back from his side.

"Oh Jesus." Sam immediately moved so he could get a look, afraid he was going to see a rib poking out or something, but it was a just a gash, but a wicked one all the same. He pulled off his coat and then his shirt, folding his shirt up and pressing it against the wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Just stay down, Dean. Relax. An ambulance is coming. And you are going to the hospital, no arguments. You need x-rays and you were out for a minute there."

* * *

Dean winced a little at the volume of Sam’s voice, since it made the pounding in his head worse. What the hell was the younger boy yelling about anyway? Yes? Yes what? Dean was beginning to wonder if Sam hadn’t gotten himself knocked on the head as well.

At that thought Dean’s expression turned concerned as he looked Sam over, but Sam looked ok. A little shaken up a little, but ok. That eased Dean’s mind a little.

“I know I just got hit by a car.” Dean replied rolling his eyes a little, as though he thought Sam was the one being the idiot. Though his expression changed from annoyance to confusion when Sam started stripping off his clothes until Sam pressed the shirt to his side hard, making Dean wince a little, but he didn’t protest. At least, he didn’t protest until Sam mentioned an ambulance and hospital.

No way. No fucking way he was going to the hospital. He was fine. A little bruised and bloody, but fine.

“I said I was fine, Sam. I’ve had worse.” Dean said, putting his own hand over Sam’s shirt and holding it there as he tried to push himself up again. He managed to almost sit up this time, though he might need some help getting to his feet.

“How’s my car?” He wondered if it was drivable, or if he would have to call Bobby for a tow. That bastard, if he’d totaled his car…

* * *

"You've had worse? That would explain the brain damage that lets you think that I'm going to back down on this. You are going to the hospital." Sam swore as Dean pushed himself up. Dean was pale and definitely shaken. "You shouldn't be moving! Will you stay put? Your car? How's your car? You just about got smeared all over the pavement…fine, I'll check. And I'll even tell you if you just sit here and stop moving."

Matching Dean's glare with one of his own, he got to his feet and went around to look. He saw Dean's keys and picked them up, putting them in his pants pocket. After giving the car a once over he returned to Dean's side. Dean was wearing the bitch face from hell and Sam was sure it was about the hospital as much as about the car. Tough. He was confident Bobby would agree Dean needed to go to the hospital to be checked out.

"Broken driver's window, side mirror torn off, both doors smashed in, front fender smashed in, flat tire. Your windshield didn't crack and your bumper is okay. The wheel just looks flat, not bent up or sitting weird. The back door didn't take too much damage. I'm not sure the front door will open though. The door handle looked okay just the door's smashed good. After we get to the hospital I'll call Bobby and have him come get it."

* * *

Brain damage?! Dean glared a little at the younger boy when Sam insisted he go to the hospital. He knew the Sam was only being so bitchy because he was worried about him, but damn it, he didn’t need to go to the hospital!

“Fine.” He muttered when Sam agreed to check on the damage to the car if he’d sit here. It wasn’t like Dean could get up on his own right now anyway. He needed a few more minutes before he attempted that.

Dean watched Sam’s face as he got up and went around the car. Just from the younger boy’s expression he knew he wasn’t going to like it. He was right.

“Mother fucker!” Dean growled. From what Sam described, it didn’t sound like his car was too badly damaged but definitely damaged enough that it couldn’t be driven for at least a few days. Oh yeah, he was pissed.

Dean started trying to get his feet underneath him. He was tired of sitting here. His cell phone was in the car. He could call Bobby to come pick them up from here. Unfortunately he didn’t make it much past the kneeling stage before a wave of dizziness hit him and the edge of his vision started to darken. 

* * *

"Will you sit your fucking ass down!" Sam yelled at him as he started to stop Dean from getting up and instead caught him as Dean nearly passed out again, feeling the terror tighten his chest. "And don't you dare puke on me," Sam muttered.

This was his fault. All his fault. Dean could have been killed! It wasn’t worth it. If Eric wanted him so bad he was ready to try to kill Dean over him, no. Hell no. He'd…he'd get used to it. But he wasn't going to let this happen again. Vengeance wouldn't solve anything. The only thing that would stop it was going back to Eric. He'd make sure that Dean and Bobby were left alone, untouched by anyone. He felt the tear run down his cheek as he helped settle Dean back on to the pavement. "Please Dean, just sit down, okay? For me?" he begged. He could hear the ambulance approaching and hoped they got here fast. Dean was so damned stubborn. He could be hurt bad and until the adrenaline wore off, not even know it.

Sam picked up his blood soaked shirt from where it had fallen and folded it over to a clean side and held it on Dean's gash. He used his other hand to wipe away some of the blood from the senior's forehead. "I won't let this happen again. I'm sorry." 

* * *

“Not gonna puke...” Dean protested mildly as Sam eased him carefully back down to the pavement. Even though he did kind of feel like puking right about now the way everything was kind of spinning.

He closed his eyes, though he wasn’t really sure if that made the vertigo better or worse. Dean could hear the approaching sirens now and even though he didn’t want to get on the god damned ambulance he really didn’t have much of a choice at this point.

Any lingering thoughts of refusing to go to the hospital pretty much vanished at the tone of Sam’s soft plea, and Dean sighed in resignation.

“Alright, Sammy...” Dean replied softly, not protesting when he felt Sam press the shirt once more to his side. Though Sam’s apology, or more the tone, the spike of fear it drove through him, had his eyes snapping open and he gave the younger boy a hard look. Reaching up to grasp Sam’s hand that had been touching his forehead.

“This is _not_ your fault, Sam. Don’t you even think about doing something stupid or _I’ll_ kick your ass.”

* * *

Sam tried to smile but he knew it was more a grimace. "Me? I don't do stupid stuff." The glare Dean gave him, a glare that said Dean would do more than just kick his ass, made him swallow a little hard and he suddenly very much understood why the kids got out of his way. He squeezed Dean's hand. What was he supposed to do? Pretend this hadn't happened? Pretend he hadn't seen Eric?

He knew he could get all bitchy, he knew he could piss Dean off enough that Dean would throw up his hands and walk away from him and never once look back. He knew that's what he should do, for Dean's sake. But he didn't want Dean mad at him like that. He didn't want Dean to hate him for making the choice he knew he had to if he was going to protect the senior who had looked after him and made him feel safe, even if only for a couple days. Eric was accustomed to getting what he wanted and Sam feared he would go to any lengths to get it, to get him. …Would Eric actually try to kill Dean though? He didn't think he would, not really, but there was a niggling doubt and he wasn't really sure what Eric was capable of at this point.

"Eric was watching, Dean. I saw his car pull away. I'm sure he hired that person to do this. You could have been killed! You know it's because of me. He was leaving you alone until I wrecked you life, and now your car. You can't tell me it's not my fault when we both know it is." 

* * *

Sam’s insistence that he didn’t do stupid things didn’t really satisfy Dean in the least, but he also didn’t really have the energy to get into an argument right now. The light squeeze the younger boy gave his hand made his hard expression melt away though and Dean sighed again, leaning his head a little against Sam’s thigh. He only realized now he’d ended up practically cradled in Sam’s lap which definitely wasn’t a bad place to be, in his opinion. Dean squeezed Sam’s hand back gently in return.

When Sam mentioned that he had seen Eric watching, that Sam thought the other boy had probably paid that asshole to try to run him down, Dean couldn’t say he was really surprised. He had suspected as much himself, Sam’s words pretty much confirmed his suspicion, though of course there was no way for them to prove it. Even if the cops managed to find the car and whoever was driving there would be no way to tie it to Eric. Eric’s family and their legion of high priced lawyers would make sure of that.

Dean frowned again when Sam insisted that this was his fault. That if Dean had never agreed to ‘sponsor’ Sam that this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe that was true, but there had been plenty of bad blood between him and Eric for a couple of years now, before Sam had ever come into the picture. It was really only a matter of time before they clashed again.

“Sam. Eric’s hated me long before we ever met. It was just a matter of time before it all came to a head again. I’d rather it be over you. I’m not letting him have you…” The ambulance finally pulled into the parking lot, interrupting him before he could finish and maybe that was for the best. Since he’d been about to say, _You’re mine._  


* * *

Sam couldn't help but sigh. He couldn't deny Dean and Eric had apparently tangled before he came into the picture. Eric had said things about Dean when they'd been hanging out and there was pure venom in his words when he'd said them. Sam didn't know who he'd been talking about at the time. And then Dean had told him about putting two of Eric's friends in the hospital and everything. He scowled. Maybe he was nothing more than the catalyst and he really didn't want to go back to Eric. Okay…but if anything else happened that put Dean in danger he would reconsider his options. He smiled a little at Dean's words about not letting Eric have him. He was lucky to have Dean watching out for him.

He saw the concern and worry and pain in Dean's face. He wanted to make Dean feel better somehow. After a moment of thought he leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Kinda extreme to hire a guy to run you down just so you didn't have to share me with a girl tomorrow night, don't you think?"

He looked up at the paramedic that appeared at Dean's side. Sam recounted what happened, that Dean had been knocked out he thought and that Dean was definitely dizzy when he tried to get up. He started to show the paramedic Dean's wound when the paramedic shook his head and told him to leave the shirt in place, that taking it away might make it bleed worse.

Sam held Dean until they got a collar on Dean and loaded him onto a backboard and then the cot.

"Dean, do you want me to come with you or stay with your car?" Sam asked. He wanted to go with Dean, but he knew how much the car meant to him and with the broken window, he would stay with the car if that's what Dean wanted. "I'll use the phone inside the restaurant and call Bobby if you want me to stay here."

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but snort softly in amusement at Sam’s words whispered in his ear, though he actually did feel a little bad. He’d been giving Sam a bit of a hard time about it just this morning, getting a bit jealous on Sam when he’d been the one to suggest the whole thing in the first place. Now he’d worked up Sam’s hopes in anticipation of tomorrow night and he probably wouldn’t be able to follow through on it. Well, he still might be able to, depending. Maybe he just wouldn’t be able to participate, which would suck, but he’d made Sam a promise and he wanted to keep it if he could.

Then the paramedic was there reminding him he had other things to worry about right now. Like making sure he didn’t have brain damage or anything.

Dean remained quiet and still as he’d promised the younger boy letting the paramedics look him over. Sam talked to the paramedic for the most part while the man took his vitals and shined a light in his eyes, and Dean only spoke when the paramedic addressed him directly. He really didn’t want to wear the damned restricting neck collar they wedged him into but he knew from experience they weren’t going to risk moving him without it.

He was more than ready to get on the damned ambulance by that point since they’d drawn a small crowd of gawkers and the police by then and Dean definitely wasn’t very pleased about that. Then Sam was asking him if he wanted him to come along… Dean hadn’t even really considered the option that Sam wouldn’t, but now that the younger boy mentioned it, it kind of made sense for Sam to stay with the car. What if the cops started snooping around his car for ‘evidence’ and found the secret compartment in the trunk? But what if Sam stayed here and Eric, or one of his cronies, showed up? Unlikely maybe, but it had also been unlikely of Eric trying to kill him by having him run over.

“My cell is in the glove compartment. You can call on the way.” Dean finally answered. 

* * *

The paramedic gave a nod to Sam, telling him they needed to get the hospital called and an IV started anyhow, reassuring Sam and Dean both that it was standard procedure. Sam went to the car and threw what little was in the car into the trunk, though he grabbed his backpack of spare clothes and his homework along with his school coat that he pulled on. When he tried to open the glovebox he was surprised to find it locked. He fished the keys out and opened it and when he did a box fell out and with it a handful of fake IDs. Sam's eyes grew wide as he glanced over them and in some cases the badges that went with them. There were also a couple credit cards with names that were not Dean's. He suspected they probably would match some of the IDs if he had time to compare them. He heard one of the police call out to him. Oh crap.

Sam quickly tossed everything back into the box and shoved it down in his backpack. He almost forget the cell phone in his haste, but grabbed it and relocked the glove compartment. He locked the door out of habit even though the driver's side window was shattered to rubble.

The police just wanted to confirm a few things with him then Sam hurried to the ambulance with his backpacks and sat on one of the benches, buckling himself in. Dean recited Bobby's phone number and he punched it in.

"Hi Bobby, it's Sam. Dean got hit by a car. He's okay, but we're going to Mercy hospital. He might have a concussion and they want to take a few x-rays.…I'm fine. I'm going with him though…it was just some lunatic…probably…His car got hit. It's at Estaban's Mexican restaurant…yeah, that's the place. The car has a flat tire and busted window and I don't think the driver's side door will open. Do I need to leave the keys? …Okay. Yeah. I'll tell him. See you then. Bye." Sam turned to Dean. "He'll meet us at the hospital as soon as he gets your car home."

* * *

Dean was really glad when Sam agreed to come with him in the ambulance. Not that he was at all capable of looking after the younger boy in his current condition, but he still felt better knowing that Sam would be close by. Not to mention being in a crowded hospital was a hell of a lot safer than being out on the street ‘alone’ so close to the school, especially when Sam had seen Eric.

When Sam got in the ambulance Dean gave the younger boy Bobby’s number, though it actually took him a moment to remember it. That probably wasn’t the best sign, though to be honest his headache had gotten a lot worse in the last few minutes so it wasn’t much of a surprise he was having trouble concentrating. Now that the adrenaline had begun to fade, every ache and pain seemed to intensify.

The next time he saw Eric the bastard was going to wish he’d never looked at Sam twice.

Dean only half listened to the conversation Sam had with Bobby over the phone as the ambulance pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the hospital. The siren definitely wasn’t helping his headache. At all. He hated this fucking neck brace. He couldn’t even turn his head to look at Sam or nod when the younger boy told him Bobby would meet them at the hospital.

“Thanks, Sam.” Dean said and sighed heavily as he closed his eyes. The fluorescent light above him definitely wasn’t helping his headache any.


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby tried to tell himself it was probably just a freak occurrence, just bad luck. Lord knew the boy had that in spades. Seeing as how Dean was protecting Sam and had wrecked Lancaster's car…no, it probably wasn't an accident. Sam had agreed and believed Lancaster was behind it when he'd asked. Sam said he was okay, so that was good. If Dean had a concussion the boy was going to be pissed as hell. Bobby wouldn't be able to take him on the hunt. Concussions tended to slow reaction time down, slow your thinking process, and if he were to take a second hit while still healing from the first…Bobby wouldn't risk his boy that way no matter how much belly-aching Dean did. He'd have to find someone else to back him up. If Dean wasn't up to denying going to the hospital, that also meant he wasn't going to school tomorrow and that wouldn't make him happy because odds were Sam would be, putting Sam on his own.  


  
Bobby was mid-transit making a delivery so it took him over an hour to get to the restaurant and get Dean's car. Damn, what a mess it was. By the time he got it back to the salvage yard then got to the hospital it was almost three hours later.

They were still in the ER when Bobby got there. The doctor confirmed Dean had a mild concussion, had over a hundred stitches in his side, and a slightly sprained ankle but was otherwise okay except for the bruises he had covering half his body. Bobby found Sam at Dean's side, holding his hand of all things, looking worried as hell, and Dean was asleep. That told him right away Dean had a concussion 'cause that boy hated hospitals.

"Hi Sam," Bobby said softly. "How you doing."

The boy's head snapped up and it looked like the kid wanted to burst into tears. "He's got a…"

"I know kid, I already talked with the doctor. They want to keep him overnight for observation but I'm not going to let them. Dean doesn't like hospitals. I can watch over him and he'll do a lot better at home than here."

"It's my fault—" Sam started.

"Hush up. 'T'weren't your fault. You didn't do this, that Lancaster boy did. Dean and he have had their tangles before. You ain't nothing more than an excuse for that little bastard to take another shot at Dean. You fold and give in to Lancaster and that'll hurt Dean a helluva lot worse than any concussion." Bobby sat down next to Sam and asked softly, "You two, you 'n' Dean, you two together?"

Sam's eyes widened a little. "What?" he practically squeaked.

Bobby gave him a glare. "Don't be lying to me boy."

Sam saw right away where Dean got his death glare from. He started to shake his head, then sucked his lower lip in, chewing on it a moment before giving a tiny nod. "Kinda."

"Sponsoring?"

Giving a half shrug Sam mumbled, "Sorta but…but I…" he flushed, "I like being with him. Don't tell my parents," he begged.

Bobby clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, son. I won't. 'T ain't my business, but if things get more serious 'tween you two, I don't' want my boy charged with taking advantage of a minor by upset parents."

"He's not making me do anything--"

"Hush up. I know he wouldn't touch you if it didn't go both ways. And I know he'd look out for you even if you weren't together like that. Because that's the way my boy is. He don't give himself over easy to caring but he cares about you." Bobby gave the boy a one armed hug. "Stop your fretting. Dean's had a lot worse than this. He's going to be fine, so long as you don't turn your back on him and go to Lancaster, thinking you're protecting him. Lancaster will win and you both will lose."

"But—"

"Dean can handle a monster like Lancaster. He's handled worse. He just has to treat it like..." Bobby almost said 'a job' but didn't want to try to explain that to the boy, "like you're both in the cross hairs. If this doesn't drive you back to that evil son of a bitch, Lancaster will turn his focus elsewhere, judging that Dean isn't your weak spot. If he thinks he is, he won't let Dean be. He's hunting for your weakness and had a grudge against Dean in the first place so Dean was the place to start."

"My parents?" Sam asked hesitantly, "Do you think he'll try to do something to them?"

Bobby sighed. "I'll talk with them."

"Dad thinks Eric walks on water."

"Demons are good at putting on a pretty face. I'll handle it Sam," Bobby assured him, figuring he best start with Keiko. It was going to be sticky no matter how he approached it. "Doctor said as soon as Dean wakes up, we can take him home, but let's let him sleep for now. Doctor really wants him here a few more hours since he's not staying overnight. You called your parents?"

Sam shook his head.

"All right, I'll step out and call your mother." Seeing the boy start to interrupt he said, "I already got her number. You just stay here with Dean. I'm going to go his prescriptions filled. I'll be back soon. If Dean wakes up 'fore I get back, just tell him we'll be heading home soon, that he's not staying here unless he pukes or gets worse."

"Okay. Thanks Bobby," Sam said. Bobby's words about what Eric was doing made sense and he realized if he did go back to Eric, Dean would still be in danger. Any little thing Sam fought against, Eric would just threaten Dean and he would have Sam by the shorthairs. This way was better. He didn't like it, but it was better. He also wondered if Dean was going to kill him for him admitting to Bobby that he and Dean were…together. Obviously it wasn't a surprise to the man, he had asked, so Bobby must already know Dean went either way. It was actually kind of a relief.

He picked back up one of this text books that he'd set aside an hour ago and began reading again, giving Dean's hand a light squeeze.

* * *

The cold antiseptic smell he would recognize anywhere told him he was in a hospital before Dean even opened his eyes. Though the fact that he didn’t remember why or how he’d gotten here alarmed Dean for a moment. His eyes snapping open and looking around wildly in confusion before his gaze settled on Sam sitting next to his hospital bed and everything rushed back.

Going out to lunch with Sam, the car that had tried to run him down, that ass wipe Lancaster probably behind it…

“Hey…” Dean muttered as he forced himself to relax back in his bed. Not that he could ever really relax lying in a fucking hospital bed, but he didn’t want to alarm Sam.

Though to be honest, he was a little surprised that the younger boy was there. He would have thought that after they got to the hospital that Sam would have called his parents and they would have come to pick him up by now.

How long had he been here? He didn’t remember getting here, so he must have passed out again in the ambulance. It was still daytime, judging by the light coming through the window trying to burn his eyes out of his sockets, so it couldn’t be that long. Unless it was the next day… but surely Sam wouldn’t have stayed by his bed all night… would he?

“How long have I been out?” Dean managed, though his words caught a little in his dry throat. Dean’s eyes drifted down to the younger boy’s hand holding his, and he let his thumb brush gently across Sam’s knuckles. 

* * *

Sam looked up when he heard the ragged gasp Dean made as his eyes fluttered open. He saw the moment of panic cross Dean's face until he laid eyes on Sam and he could practically see the memories click back into place followed by more confusion.

"Hey," Sam answered back, smiling and shutting the book in his lap as he set it aside. "Which time? You've kind of been in and out. You finally really fell asleep after they brought you back from the CAT scan or MRI or whatever they did. It's been almost four hours since you got hit by the car. Bobby's been here and told me to tell you that you're not staying overnight even though they want you to. Unless you puke or something, then you're staying. He went to get you the prescriptions and should be back soon. You've got a concussion, sprained ankle, and a bunch of stitches in your side. And more bruises than I had last week."

He saw Dean glance at the IV. "Don't even think about taking it out. I wouldn't make any trouble for the doctors if you want to get out of here without any problems. Being combative and aggressive can be signs of a concussion and they might think you got worse and make you stay. Bobby didn't say if he got your car or not, but for as long as it took him to get here, I'm guessing he did."

Squeezing Dean's hand he said, "I'm glad you're awake. You were kind of freaking me out."

* * *

Four hours? Had Sam been here all that time? Well, obviously since he was still here, duh. Dean was glad to hear that he’d only been out for about four hours, rather than overnight. Though the fact that he couldn’t really remember those four hours was a bit troubling, losing four hours was better than losing a whole night, he supposed.

Dean was glad that Bobby was here and that apparently his car was taken care of. He knew that Bobby would have seen to that before coming here. The older man was nothing if not practical and Bobby wouldn’t have wanted his car to end up in impoundment or anything, especially with the hidden weapons rack in the trunk. While his car probably wouldn’t have been searched that thoroughly by the cops since he was the victim and all it was still better to be safe than sorry.

He was also really glad to hear that Bobby was taking him home and he wouldn’t have to stay here overnight. Bobby knew how much he fucking hated hospitals, and there was no reason for him to stay here. He had a bump on the head, some stitches, and bruises, he wasn’t dying or anything.

Dean glanced at the IV tube sticking out of his arm and frowned, trying to figure out the best way to take it out. The sooner it came out and the sooner he found his clothes so he could get out of the damned bed the sooner he could leave.

His eyes shifted back to Sam at the younger boy’s ‘warning’ and he frowned a little at his remark. He wasn’t being aggressive or combative, damn it. He didn’t even need a damned IV. Talk about overkill. Doctors probably just stuck it in him so that they could run up Bobby’s insurance as much as possible. Fuck, he hated hospitals.

Still, Dean left it alone. More because he knew if he started yanking stuff out Bobby might make a fuss and decide not to check him out after all. Even though Dean was technically an adult and didn’t need anyone’s permission to leave, he still needed a way to get home.

When Sam squeezed his hand Dean offered the younger boy a slight smile.

“Don’t worry. I’ve had worse.” 

* * *

"Yeah, I've seen your scars. Well you have a new one now on your side. I can sign it if you'd like," Sam said, but gave him a half smile with it. "Really, Dude, if you wanted something to remember me by I could have gotten you something like a skin magazine. A lot less painful."

Sam looked over when Bobby entered the room. Bobby gave a nod to Sam then cocked an eyebrow at Dean. "Well, Sleeping Beauty is awake. I'll get the nurse to take care of removing the IV. You just stay in that bed until that's done. Sam, don't give him his clothes until the nurse takes out the IV." He gave his best glare at Dean to let him know he was not joking and there was no room for argument.

"What did Mom say?" Sam asked.

"Since you're not hurt, she said you could stay at our place until her or your dad gets off work. One of your parents will come get you then."

Sam gave a nod, relieved. He wanted to stay with Dean a while longer, just to make sure Dean was really going to be okay. Bobby turned and left and Sam grabbed the bag with Dean's clothes and set them in the chair beside him. "I never did get back my clothes from you, or give you back yours yet." He peeked inside the bag then gave Dean a grin. "Just checking."

 

* * *

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes when Sam asked him if he wanted him to ‘sign’ his stitches.

“That’s a cast, dipshit.” He said affectionately, grinning a little when Sam mentioned getting him a skin magazine instead to remember him by. Dean almost replied that Sam could always give him a strip tease and let him take pictures if Sam really wanted to give him something to remember him by. Thankfully he didn’t because Bobby chose that moment to enter the room.

He rolled his eyes again when Bobby ordered him to stay in bed until the nurse could remove the IV. Giving him the same shit about getting up as Sam had, Jesus, he wasn’t a damned invalid. He would be fine. But Sam and Bobby both were acting like he was going to keel over any second or something. It was annoying.

Dean was glad though that Sam would be able to come back to the salvage yard with them instead of going home. School was probably out by now and Dean definitely didn’t want the younger boy at home alone after the shit Eric had pulled today.

When he saw Sam pick up the bag that obviously had his clothes in them, Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit on the edge. For a moment he wished he hadn’t sat up so quickly but the dizziness passed quickly and he didn’t sway or feel like he was going to fall over, thank goodness.

“Why? You wanna see me in your underwear again?” Dean teased as he held out his hand to Sam. “Here, gimme my pants.” 

* * *

Sam started to tell Dean to stay laying down, but it was too late. Dean was already sitting up and Sam was on his feet ready to catch Dean, afraid he was going to pass out again or something from sitting up like that. Jesus was he stubborn. He could tell it effected Dean, seeing a look of discomfort sweep over his face.

"You're the dipshit, dipshit. Don't you understand what stay laying down means? What if you fell out of bed and ripped out the IV or something, jerk? I've seen enough of you being bloody and on the ground today, okay?" Sam scolded him, working on learning that death glare and practicing on Dean in that moment.

That glare disappeared with Dean's comment. "I told you I liked you in those pants," Sam said, blushing a bit. "No, you're not getting your clothes until the nurse takes out the IV."

Sam dug out Dean's socks. "Let's start here. And let me do it. You don't need to be bending over with those stitches in your side and they've got your ankle wrapped anyhow. It'll be harder to get your sock on."

* * *

Dean only grinned and gave the younger boy his most innocent look when Sam glared at him and started bitching at him about sitting up. Yeah, it really sucked getting hit by a fucking car and ending up in the fucking hospital, even if only for a few hours, but it was kind of nice knowing just how much Sam cared about him.

He only grinned more when Sam admitted again that he’d liked seeing him in those tight ass pants, even blushing a little as he said it. Damn, if Sam only knew what he did to him when he blushed. Could the younger boy really blame him for wanting to keep Sam just for himself?

Though when Sam refused to give him his clothes Dean frowned a bit.

“Sam…” Dean started to complain then sighed and shook his head. He was really tempted to just rip out the damned IV himself and be done with it, but he knew that would only piss off the younger boy and Bobby, not to mention lessen his chances of getting out of here. Damn it, he was never going to win with both Sam and Bobby against him. They’d probably even make him sit in a damned wheel chair on the way out like some kind of cripple.

“Fine.” He finally agreed grudgingly when Sam offered to put his socks on for him. Yeah, he could do it himself, but his side already hurt from sitting up like this and he didn’t really want to make it worse by bending over.

When Sam came close though, Dean caught the younger boy’s wrist before he could kneel down and pulled him to stand between his legs instead.

“Hey… give me a kiss…” Dean asked, giving the younger boy a warm smile. Yeah, it was a bit risky, Bobby could be back any minute with the nurse, but he could really use a kiss right now. 

* * *

Shocked hardly covered it when Dean agreed to let Sam help him. Okay, the senior was definitely hurting. Or being sensible? Nah. Hurting.

When Sam moved to start getting Dean's socks on him he was startled by Dean grabbing him and pulling him close. If Dean's grip hadn't been gentle Sam knew he probably would have freaked. Instead he stood there, looking into Dean's eyes, basking in that gaze that definitely held mischief. Here? When they knew people were coming in any minute? He glanced toward the door nervously.

Well, hell, he'd basically been naked in the back of Dean's car at the warehouse where a cop could have driven up at any time. And Bobby knew now. And the nurses and doctors had seen him sitting there holding Dean's hand. So…

Sam leaned forward and kissed him a little tentatively, almost shyly. He dropped the socks on the bed without really thinking about it as he ended the kiss, then kissed Dean again, a little more boldly, licking at the seam of Dean's lips and when Dean parted them in invitation, he invading the senior's mouth, tangling their tongues together for just a moment, then broke the kiss.

"We shouldn't…" Sam said licking his lips, feeling them still tingle from the kiss. "You shouldn't get excited. And I don't wanna have to walk out to Bobby's truck with my bookbag covering my crotch."

He grabbed the socks from the bed and knelt, working first one sock and then the other on to Dean's feet. He didn't miss how Dean spread his legs just a little. He glared at Dean, but this was a good natured glare. "I think you're just trying to get the blood to go south, to reduce the swelling from the concussion."

* * *

He wondered if Sam would do it. If the younger boy didn’t want to kiss him in ‘public’ Dean certainly wasn’t going to insist. The fact that the younger boy didn’t immediately tell him ‘hell no, not here’ was definitely promising, but if the younger boy waited too long to make his decision it would be too late.

Then Sam leaned in to give him the softest sweetest kiss and Dean couldn’t help but smile fondly at the younger boy even though that wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind. Sam was acting the epitome of a blushing virgin right now despite all that they had done, and it was kind of adorable.

The second kiss, that he honestly hadn’t been expecting, was definitely more what he had in mind and Dean moaned softly. Letting his hands settle on the younger boy’s hips as his lips parted, allowing Sam’s soft wet tongue in to play with his own. A soft sound of complaint escaping his throat when the younger boy pulled away even though Dean knew Sam was right. It was too risky doing anything more. Hell, it had been too risky even what they had.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh when Sam mentioned having to walk outside covering his crotch. Though when Sam knelt down in front of him to help him put on his socks, as promised, Dean felt his dick twitch a little even though he told it to behave itself. He couldn’t really help it though, how much had he been fantasizing about having Sam’s lips around his cock and now Sam was _right there_ next to his crotch.

“I feel better already.” Dean replied to Sam’s accusation with a grin. 

* * *

Sam rolled his eyes. "I can always drop an icepack between your legs if you don't behave," he threatened.

He was about to make another comment when the nurse walked in. She was late twenties and a bombshell of a redhead but Sam noticed she had on wedding ring. She wondered if she was Dean's type when it came to women.

"Hello Mr. Winchester. Good to see you're feeling better." She approached his arm with his IV and slowly and carefully removed it, smiling at him. She quickly placed a band aid with a cotton ball over the place where the needle had been inserted. She turned to the bed crank then and lowered it so Dean's long legs would reach the floor.

"Since you have a concussion I'm going to help you get your pants on and make certain you're able to stand. You'll still have to leave in a wheelchair, that's hospital policy, but we would like to make certain you can stand okay before you go."

Sam dug out Dean's pants and handed them to her. The paramedic was going to cut them off but Sam protested and the paramedic had reluctantly removed them intact.

"Your ankle," she said, "is lightly sprained. With the stitches you have, you can't use crutches. We've got a cane for you instead which I'll bring you when I bring in the wheelchair. You're supposed to stay off of your foot as much as possible for a week. The more you're on it, the longer it will take to heal. If you stay off of it, by the time your concussion is on its way to healing, you should be able to do light walking without the cane. If you're on it too much though, it will just swell back up again so don't push it. The doctor wants you on complete bed rest for two days, but you'll probably sleep most of that time anyhow. The third day, light activity only. Your guardian says you're still in school. You can return to school next Wednesday assuming you feel up to it, but no gym class for two weeks, maybe three, depending on how you're doing when you come back in to have the stitches removed."

She leaned over and got the pants legs on Dean and got them pulled up to his knees. "Okay, Mr. Winchester, put your hands on my shoulders." She glanced at Sam. "You're his brother?"

Sam shook his head, still digesting that Dean wasn't going to be in school for a week. Oh, he was fucking toast! "No, just a friend."

Her eyebrow lifted. She'd seen the way the younger boy had worried over her patient, seen him holding the older youth's hand. Friend. Yes. Of course he was. At least he wouldn't be too embarrassed to help. "When I get Dean on his feet, can you pull his pants up?"

Nodding, Sam moved to Dean's side, trying to keep the panic out of his eyes. It was going to be okay, he told himself. Dean was stubborn. He'd probably be back in school by Monday. That meant only three days. Yeah. Not so bad. Just three days of getting his ass kicked.

Fuck.

* * *

Dean only snorted softly when Sam threatened him with an icepack on his crotch. But since that didn’t sound pleasant at the moment and he really didn’t want to take the chance that the younger boy would make good on his threat, Dean decided to ‘behave’ himself.

For now at least.

When the nurse finally came in Dean turned his head and raised an appreciative eyebrow at the young woman. She had a great body and one hell of a rack. Just his luck the one time he got a really hot nurse he wasn’t going to be staying in the hospital. He probably could have talked her into giving him a really fun sponge bath or something.

“Thanks.” He replied as she took out the IV from his arm. Dean glanced at Sam and raised an eyebrow. He wondered if Sam liked what he saw. What was the younger boy’s taste in women? She definitely was the kind of woman he wouldn’t have minded sharing with Sam tomorrow night.

Unfortunately she was pretty much all business as she offered to help him get him back into his pants and explained to him what he ‘needed’ to do once he got out of the hospital. A cane? Well, fuck that. No fucking way he was using a cane. It was just a fucking sprain, he didn’t have his foot fucking amputated or anything.

There was also no fucking way he was going to be staying in bed for two damned days. A week home was also out of the fucking question. While normally he wouldn’t have given a damned about staying home from school for a week, in fact, he would have enjoyed any excuse to stay away from that fucking place. But since he had to look after Sam, there was no way he was letting the younger boy face Eric and his posse alone for a week.

Dean looked over at Sam again when she addressed him, saw the nervousness in the younger boy’s eyes, and tried to give him a reassuring look. He wasn’t going to leave Sam alone. No matter what she said, no matter what Bobby said either. He was going to school.

Trying to erase that fear in the younger boy’s expression when Sam came over to him, Dean gave him a slightly mischievous look as he put his hands on her slim shoulders as instructed.

“So, sweetheart, you really married or do you just wear that ring to keep your horny patients from hitting on you all the time?” Dean asked, giving her his best charming grin. 

* * *

The reassurance that passed over Dean's face Sam considered a mere kindness. Certainly not a practicality. The senior had almost been run over! He needed to stay in bed and heal. Sam had to get a hold of himself and convince Dean he would be able to survive a few days without him. The closest bus stop to the salvage yard was a good two miles but he could still go over there after school if his parents didn't mind picking him up. Assuming he could manage to walk two miles once he was beat to hell and back again. No, he had to think positive…he was positive he was going to get his ass kicked tomorrow. That was in part the point of trying to run Dean down, after all. He managed a strained smile at least. He didn't think Dean bought it though.

Getting to Dean's side he gripped the waistband of Dean's pants and held them ready for the tall senior.

Smiling sweetly at Dean the nurse said. "Now if I just wore it to keep horny young men from hitting on me, it's obviously not very effective now is it? I've got a husband, a mortgage, two kids, and the stretch marks to prove it." She glanced over at the younger boy and seeing that he was set, helped Dean stand, gripping him his under his arms in case he became dizzy or even passed out.

As soon as Dean was on his feet, Sam pulled Dean's pants up, being especially careful of the zipper. H was really glad Dean hadn't gotten excited during their kiss or that would really be awkward to explain. Nah, Dean would just blame it on the nurse he was flirting with.

…and that didn't bother Sam at all. Nope. Not at all. Just because maybe he pulled Dean's pants up just a tad further than necessary before letting them settle back on Dean's hips and he buttoned them. He'd let Dean zip them.

* * *

Dean laughed warmly at the nurse’s reply, not the least bit upset really about being shot down. He normally didn’t like nurses too much but he liked her. She had a sense of humor at least. It was definitely too bad she was already taken and not the type to fool around. He bet she was a wildcat in bed.

Then she helped him get up… and Dean really wasn’t happy by just how much she actually had to help him keep his balance. His vision swam for a moment and he took a few deep breaths through his nose fighting off a wave of nausea that swept over him. There was no way he was throwing up on the hot nurse, for one, and certainly no way he was going to be sick and have to stay in this fucking hospital all night either. The pulling stitches in his side made him wince, bruises along his side also weren’t feeling all that great right now, and he couldn’t put much weight on his ankle at all.

Fuck…

Yeah. Ok. He felt like shit. He’d be fine by tomorrow though. He would be fine…

Sam tugging up his pants up a little higher and harder than necessary definitely distracted him a little bit from his discomfort and he gave the younger boy a slightly questioning look. Yup. Bitch face. What had he done? Sam wasn’t… jealous… was he? Dean smirked a little as Sam buttoned up his pants, letting go of the nurse once he was a little bit more certain of his balance and putting an arm around Sam instead for support.

If his fingers lingered a tad too long on the back of the younger boy’s neck he pretended not to notice as he zipped himself up. 

* * *

The nurse watched Dean's face and prepared herself to get spewed on. The young man really ought to be kept over night, but the man who had been his guardian assured them that he would be able to take care of Dean and that if the young man's condition changed, he would bring him back in.

She was honestly surprised the handsome youth managed to stay on his feet, or foot rather since that ankle was obviously more tender than the man expected. She steadied him until he finally seemed something approaching stable, and she certainly didn't miss the little interaction between him and the younger boy. Bad form to flirt with someone else when your boyfriend was there and she had to bite back a laugh. Well, the almost wedgie served the young man right.

Once Dean let go of her she waited until he had his pants zipped up. "Okay, now sit back down and I'll go see if the paperwork is finished and get you your wheelchair. There's the trashcan if you decide you need to throw up. And thank you for not throwing up on me. I'm impressed and appreciate it."

Sam couldn't help but roll his head a little at Dean's light touch on his neck. Dammit, he'd told Dean to behave. But he also couldn't help the worry. He had heard the hiss that came from Dean when Dean tried to put weight on his ankle. He also saw how unsteady Dean was. He guessed he would be lucky if Dean was back in school before Wednesday after all.

Sam easily, well mostly easily, held Dean's weight and then helped ease the senior back onto the edge of the bed. Once he was settled, Sam grabbed the trashcan and brought it within easy reach. As soon as the nurse left, Sam planted a kiss on Dean's lips.

"You really ought to stay here tonight. I could see if maybe I could sit with you."

* * *

For once, Dean didn’t even think about arguing with the nurse’s instructions when she told him to sit down again glad to be off his feet. He even managed to give her a slight smile when she thanked him for not puking on her.

“Sure. No problem.” He replied and was glad for the younger boy’s help getting him sitting back on the edge of the bed without falling on his ass. Considering how his side hurt he certainly didn’t want to imagine what it would feel like to fall and possibly rip out some of those stitches. That would suck. Big time.

He only swayed a little bit when Sam released him to go get the trash can that the nurse mentioned and brought it closer, and he smiled at the younger boy in thanks. Even though the nausea was starting to pass now that he was seated again. The soft kiss that Sam gave him after the nurse was gone was definitely not unwelcome.

Dean shook his head though when Sam suggested that he stay here overnight.

“No way. Hate hospitals. I’ll be fine, Sammy.” Dean said, settling his hands back on the younger boy’s hips. Leaning forward he rested his forehead on Sam’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Don’t worry. Not gonna puke.” He reassured the younger boy. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” 

* * *

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and held him loosely, but stood ready to clutch him tighter if Dean started to waver or something. He was only mildly reassured when Dean promised he wasn't going to puke. Dean definitely looked a little pale. He kissed Dean's head.

"I know you'll be fine. But only if you follow the doctor's orders. You need to rest for a few days. I'll be okay. I'll get to school when it starts getting crowded and I'll get sick right before lunch so I'll be in the nurse's office until the next class starts up. Then I'll bail out of class a little early. I'll maybe ride the bus out to the Seabrook Road bus stop. I can jog to your place from there, assuming my parents are cool with picking me up."

He stroked Dean's hair as he leaned his cheek gently against Dean's head. He didn't want to put any pressure on it, he wasn't sure where Dean was bruised, so he just put enough pressure to let Dean know he was there.

As Dean sat there leaning against him, Sam felt his chest tighten a little. Dean needed him now. He wondered if his parents would let him stay the night, so he could help Bobby watch over him. The recriminating thoughts kept trying to nip at him, but he held Bobby's words close to his heart. It wouldn't help, going to Eric wouldn't help.

He looked up when Bobby followed the nurse in who was pushing the wheel chair. "C'mon Dean. You're ride's here," Sam said softly. "We'll be at your house soon and you can sleep some more."

* * *

It felt good leaning against Sam like this, the younger boy’s arms around him, and the light stroking to his hair. Sam’s scent filled his senses, blocking out the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and Dean found himself relaxing even further into the younger boy’s light embrace.

Though he certainly didn’t like it too much the way Sam went on about him obeying the doctor’s orders. How Sam would try to take care of himself at school alone… Sam wasn’t ready to face those bastards alone yet. He’d taught the younger boy a few tricks, but not nearly enough to keep himself from being pounded into a bloody pulp. It would only take one time… one time for those mother fuckers to catch Sam alone somewhere… and it would be Sam that ended up in the hospital next time.

They both knew it. He could hear the tension in Sam’s voice even though the younger boy tried to be confident and reassuring. Dean was sure this is what Eric had in mind. If almost having him run down didn’t scare the younger boy back to Eric, getting him out of the way one way or another so that he could get to Sam easier was definitely a reasonable back up plan. Eric wouldn’t miss this opportunity, and Dean wasn’t going to let him get it.

What the hell did the doctors know anyway? He’d hunted with worse injuries than this before he wasn’t going to let Bobby keep him home from _school_. He also wasn’t going to let Sam go to school alone, plain and simple. So if they really wanted him to stay home and ‘rest’ they were going to have to come up with another option.

Before he could answer the younger boy, Sam told him his ‘ride’ was there and he heard the nurse pushing in the promised wheelchair. Dean sighed and straightened reluctantly. Though when he turned and saw that Bobby was there as well, his eyes widened and he felt himself pale even more if it were possible. Silently cursing, he dropped his hands quickly from Sam’s hips, hoping the older man hadn’t noticed. Also hoping Bobby would assume that Sam was just keeping him from keeling over… or something… rather than the more obvious… fuck… 

* * *

Bobby saw the look on Dean's face when he saw him. He supposed he would have to tell Dean that Dean's preferences didn't bother him. Dean had always tried to keep the fact he was interested in men off Bobby's radar, but Bobby was a hunter. He was accustomed to watching body language and it had been obvious, at least to him, for some time but he respected Dean's wishes and ignored the fact. He supposed Dean was paranoid it might be a reason for Bobby to kick him out. He could understand that. Some couldn't handle the thought of two of the same gender together.

He stepped in to take Sam's place, giving Dean support, then he and the nurse got Dean moved into the wheel chair. Seeing Sam had everything he led the way toward the exit.

Sam followed behind, letting the red head push Dean. He considered walking next to Dean but well, the view was very fine. Dean would understand and appreciate that, he was certain. Probably even approve of it. Especially since Dean had flirted with her. He liked blondes better than red heads, but the nurse had curves in all the right places. He grinned to himself and pulled out Dean's cellphone. He opened it up and, after making sure no one was paying him any mind, took a picture of the back side of the nurse. Dean would appreciate that too.

He was surprised when they got outside and he didn't see Bobby's to truck. Bobby told th nurse to stay put while he got the minivan. Minivan??

A hideous, rusted jalopy of a minivan pulled up to the curb a minute later and Bobby got out then opened the side door for Dean.

"Sam, get up in there and help him settle in."

Nodding, Sam jumped inside. The vehicle smelled of stale cigarettes. Bleah. He helped get Dean onto the bench seat, then sat down beside him.

After thanking the nurse, Bobby shut the door then got behind the wheel. "We'll be home and have you in bed soon, Dean," Bobby told him as he put the van in drive.  


* * *

Bobby didn’t say anything as the older hunter took over from Sam keeping him upright while the nurse pushed the wheelchair over, between the three of them managing to get him safely seated in the chair, and Dean wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe the older man was just waiting for them to be out of the hospital, not wanting to cause a scene or anything here. Maybe Bobby would wait until Sam went home before laying into him. What if Bobby told him to stay away from Sam? That he couldn’t see the younger boy anymore? What if Bobby told the younger boy’s parents about them and they told Sam to stay away from him too? What if Bobby was so disgusted by him he told him to get out and never come back?

Fuck… mother fucking shit fuck…

Dean glanced over at the younger boy while they waited for Bobby to go get the van. Ugh, he hated that damned van. But considering Bobby’s truck wouldn’t really fit the three of them very well, he understood why the older man had brought it instead. Sam didn’t seem all that worried though about Bobby having seen them that way. Was Sam’s parents maybe a little more open minded than most? Still, even the most open minded parents would probably be pissed if they learned someone like him was fucking their underage teenage son.

Fuck…

Getting into the van was an unpleasant affair. Dean had trouble balancing on one foot because he kept getting dizzy and feeling sick to his stomach every time he stood up. God damned concussions. He hated them. Bobby and Sam both had to hold him steady as he hopped painfully on one foot, trying not to put so much weight on his injured ankle and he knew he would have fallen without their help. He would have to wrap his ankle better when he got home, maybe put a splint on it, so at least he could put weight on it.

“Yeah.” Dean muttered to Bobby in reply, his voice strained for more than one reason as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat once he was safely inside. Trying to will his dizziness and nausea away. 

* * *

Sam felt a little helpless sitting beside Dean, seeing Dean look so damned miserable and all because of him…no, stop it, dammit. He took Dean's hand and pulled it into his lap and wrapped his other hand on top of it. That was about the best he could offer until they got back to the salvage yard. At least they weren't real far from it. He wondered suddenly if he should have grabbed Dean a puke sack or something and then fervently hoped Dean wouldn't need it.

At least the couch was comfortable. He knew that first hand and he suspected Dean would probably end up there since his bedroom was upstairs. He didn't need to be climbing stairs, not that he probably could.  
  
He wanted to lean up against Dean, but that was the side Dean had the stitches in and where he was pretty bruised up. Tomorrow was going to suck, suck, suck. He wondered how he was ever going to survive the next few days without Dean at school. He snorted to himself. That was hella selfish. Dean was bruised and sick, and he was moaning to himself about wanting Dean up and protecting him. Even if Dean made it to school in a few days, he was still going to be the walking wounded and no doubt Eric and his goons would take advantage of that. He was going to have to be extra vigilant and try to stay on Dean's injured side and protect him from people. Maybe Bobby could give him some pointers.

Bobby drove as carefully as he could. Though the car was a junker it had damned good suspension and gave a smoother ride that most. Being a hunter, injuries were common so he made sure his two main vehicles and his tow truck drove well and minimized jarring. Glancing into the rear view mirror he shook his head, seeing Dean collapsed on the seat and Sam chewing on his lower lip, worrying himself sick. He'd get Sam comforted once he got Dean tended to. There really wasn't anything he could say to either of them to help so he just kept quiet.

He slowed as he saw a red Ferrari parked in the gas station up ahead. That snot nosed son of a bitch. Wanting to see his dirty work. "Dean," Bobby snapped. "Sit your ass up. Now! Got us a scavenging jackal ahead on the right. Sam, if you've ever been pissed, call that up and look it. That son of a bitch is not going to know he hurt us."

Seeing Dean respond almost instinctively to his snapped order and praying it didn't result in Dean puking, he held out his right hand and flipped the bird to the red car as he passed by it. He saw Lancaster and his buddies there. He grinned to himself when he saw both the boys mimic him. Bobby hit the horn and made damned sure Lancaster looked up and saw them. Satisfied, he sped back up and focused on the road.

"They ain't following. You can both relax. Good job, boys."

* * *

Dean opened his eyes and glanced at Sam when the younger boy took his hand, slightly surprised by the gesture. He looked over at Bobby briefly, but the older man didn’t seem to notice, so Dean didn’t try to take his hand away. Offering Sam a small reassuring smile that was surprisingly unforced considering how crappy he felt right now. He could see that the younger boy was taking this pretty hard. What had happened had shaken him up badly, hell, everything that had happened at that damned school had shaken him up and he couldn’t really blame the boy.

When Bobby spoke Dean sat up immediately, so used to by now following orders from that tone of voice that it was second nature. Bobby usually didn’t talk like that except when they were on a hunt, when disobeying could mean death and dismemberment.

Dean was fully prepared in fact to throw himself in front of Sam to protect the younger boy from some danger he hadn’t seen yet. Then he looked where Bobby had indicated and Dean’s expression shifted from alert and ready to murderous in a split second.

That mother fucker really had some fucking nerve. Though this was probably a blessing in disguise. He certainly didn’t want Eric to know how much he was hurt and use that to his advantage. So when Dean saw Bobby give the bastard the one fingered salute as they drove by, Dean did the same, and almost laughed when Sam did as well. The look on Eric’s face when they drove past, Bobby’s horn blaring to get the prick’s attention was priceless. First shocked as hell, then angry, but Dean knew the prick was probably shitting himself too, wishing that damned car had killed him after all, and probably wondering what he would do to him once he got his hands on him.

Dean didn’t have a reputation for nothing, after all.

The bastards didn’t follow. Dean didn’t think they would. They were too chicken shit for that. Though once that burst of adrenaline faded Dean began to remember just how much like crap he felt and relaxed back against the seat with a small groan. Damned, that didn’t feel good. Bobby should probably be glad that he took such good care of his cars because any more jostling right now and Dean was going to puke whatever Mexican food was left in his stomach.

Dean gave the younger boy’s hand still holding his own a little squeeze. 

* * *

Pulling the van up close to the porch, Bobby shut down the engine. As soon as he opened the door Rumsfeld was there wagging his tail, ball in his mouth, giving a muffled 'woof.'

"Rumsfeld. Porch. Guard," Bobby told the dog sternly. Rumsfeld immediately dropped his ball and ran to the porch. Sitting down, he stared out at the junkyard, ready to defend his territory and the people in it.

Bobby walked around to the side door that Sam already had open. Handing him the house key, he told Sam, "Go unlock the door and move the coffee table out of the way.

Sam nodded and did as Bobby told him.

"C'mon Son," Bobby said, helping Dean to his feet. Bobby stepped out of the van and as soon as Dean was close enough, he swept Dean's knees with one arm and caught Dean with the other, lifting him into his arms. "Damn, this was a lot easier when you was shorter. And just shut your yap and don't throw up. I can get you into to the couch." Bobby said, his tone of voice making it perfectly clear Dean was not to argue. "Shaddup," Bobby ordered when he saw Dean start to open his mouth.

It was a strain, Dean wasn't a lightweight, and if Bobby could have carried him over his shoulder, it wouldn't have been as much an effort. Between that and his stitched up side and the fact if Dean's head went down, the blood would rush to it and he would puke, a fireman's carry just wasn't practical.

By the time Bobby got in to the couch, he was huffing. Fuck. When had the boy gotten so damned big? He eased Dean onto the cushions and then collapsed in the chair beside it. He was going to feel that tomorrow. Hell, he'd probably feel it tonight. Sam already had a couple pillows and a blanket ready for Dean. He settled the pillows under Dean as Bobby put him down, making sure the pillows helped prop Dean up. He covered Dean with the blanket then hurried to the kitchen where he filled up a couple bags of ice, wrapped them in towels and brought them out. He set two gently on Dean's ankle and the other he set against the stitched up gash. Leaving Bobby to catch his breath, he went out to the van, grabbed the prescriptions and then slid the van's door closed. After handing the bag from the drugstore to Bobby he went to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water. He handed Bobby one glass and set the other on the coffee table as he pulled it closer to the couch. He stood there then, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

"Sam, go order us a pizza," Bobby told him. "The number is by the phone."

Relieved to have something else to do, Sam disappeared into the other room. Bobby opened the bag and pulled out the three bottles. "Ibuprofen, Vicodin, and an antibiotic," he told Dean as he pulled one of each out and handed them to the injured youth, followed by the glass of water.

* * *

Dean knew they were home without even having to open his eyes and he breathed a small sigh of relief at that, he wasn’t sure how longer he could take in the car. He certainly didn’t want to have to endure the embarrassment of spewing his lunch all over Sam and Bobby having to clean it up, no doubt both the older and younger man wouldn’t appreciated that either. Fuck, he fucking hated concussions, and how they tended to make him motion sick.

When they came to a stop though Dean dared to crack open one eye and then the other when he was sure they wouldn’t fall out of his head. He watched as Sam hopped out of the car and would have tried to follow except Bobby was already there inside helping him. Dean had to admit, he appreciated the help. If possible his various wounds felt even more swollen and painful, especially the wound in his side and his ankle, though more likely whatever pain medication they’d given him in the hospital was probably just starting to wear off.

Dean had been anticipating a slow, awkward, and probably painful walk into the house, certainly not for Bobby to suddenly sweep him off his feet into a fucking bridal carry. The sudden vertigo from going from a mostly vertical to horizontal position making him groan and concentrate on not throwing up all over himself rather than protesting. At least at first. Of course when he finally tried to protest Bobby silenced him before he could even open his mouth.

At least the blush from his embarrassment overrode the paleness caused by his queasy stomach, for the moment. Dean was actually really surprised that the older hunter managed to get him inside without dropping him on the way, even though Bobby was more than a little winded by the time the older man set him down on the couch.

Sam was there hovering worriedly around him the second Bobby had him down, getting him pillows, a blanket, and ice. He winced a little at the sudden cold but he knew it would help and start to feel better soon so he didn’t bitch or complain. Dean watched the younger boy head out of the room to order them a pizza as Bobby told him to, though he knew Bobby and Sam would be the only ones eating. Just thinking about food made him feel sick to his stomach. Though when the older man handed him over his prescriptions Dean nodded a little and pushed himself up just enough so he could take them without spilling the water all over himself then he handed the glass back to Bobby and settled down again.

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean muttered. “Sorry about this… I wasn’t paying attention…”

He should have known better. He’d been stupid. How many times had Bobby told him? Not paying attention, being distracted on a hunt, was one of the quickest ways to get yourself killed. He'd let his guard down, and look what happened. 

* * *

Bobby gave a soft snort as he set the water down on the coffee table. "And getting' run down was on yer radar? You kept enough wits about you to get out of the way. You can't be on guard 24/7 Son and in broad daylight, with witnesses, in public, I wouldn't have been expecting a damned thing either. Humans," Bobby said with disgust.

Bobby confirmed Sam was still on the phone and turned back to Dean. Dean looked like shit. Although he had been inclined to keep Dean home a least a couple days, the scared rabbit look on Sam's face and that Lancaster shit at the gas station had him rethinking the decision he had made. "I know you don't want to hear it, but you're staying in bed, off your feet tomorrow. With that little son of a bitch waiting for us on the way home, I hate keeping you out, but you can bet your sweet ass he'll be pushing you tomorrow to see if you're hurt and you can't afford to let him know you are. I'd rather you not go in the rest of the week, but that's got just as much potential to bite us in the ass so let's take this a day at a time. I think if you stay down tomorrow, full bed rest, you can probably manage Thursday. If nothing else I don't want you driving tomorrow and I don't want that little shit to be able to take advantage of your injuries. I'll ask the Colts if Sam can come over and help me with you tomorrow. I'm sure I can convince them to let him. Sam and I will get the Impala up and running while you rest. We'll get the tire changed and get the metal pounded out enough the door will open, and get you a new window. Won't be able to open the window like as not until you finish working on the door, but it'll be good enough to let you lock up the car and get in to school in your trademark vehicle."

Sam came back in. "It'll be here in about forty minutes they said."

"Good," Bobby said and pushed himself to his feet. "Why don't you sit with Dean for a bit. I got a few things to tend to."

Sam watched Bobby head out toward the kitchen then turned to Dean. He brushed an errant lock off Dean's forehead. "Anything I can get you?" Sam asked Dean softly.

* * *

Dean wasn’t sure what to say when Bobby merely brushed off his apology, trying to make him feel better, no doubt. Unfortunately it didn’t really help. No, getting nearly run down by a car hadn’t been on his radar, but it probably should have been, if not that exactly, then something. Even if Bobby admitted he wouldn’t have been expecting it either, just because Dean hadn’t been expecting it didn’t mean he shouldn’t have been on guard. A few years ago? When he’d been living on the streets… Dean probably would have seen it coming because he’d always been on guard. 24/7. This just showed how soft he’d gotten. He’d started hunting ‘real’ monsters and forgot about how monstrous humans could be. He wouldn’t forget again.

Yeah… humans… at least they agreed on that much.

When Bobby went on to say that he had to stay home in bed tomorrow, the older man was right, he didn’t want to hear it. All the reasoning in the world didn’t really matter to him right now either. Yeah, Bobby was right, Lancaster would definitely take advantage of this situation, especially if he knew how hurt Dean really was. But if he stayed home tomorrow then the bastard would take just as much advantage of the situation, going after Sam while Dean wasn’t there, and… no way, no fucking way.

Dean was just opening his mouth to protest when Bobby mentioned talking to Sam’s parents and asking them if Sam could come here instead of going to school. Would they let Sam do that? Bobby was really good at convincing just about anyone to do anything so maybe… And if he went back to school the next day in his car everyone would probably just figure he’d spent the day out working on his car rather than bed ridden. That could work…

“Alright.” Dean finally agreed, giving the older man a nod and kind of regretting the movement, but at least he felt a little better about tomorrow. If Sam came here then he would rest, just like Bobby said. But if Sam didn’t come here… well… then Dean figured he should probably rest as much as he could today and tonight just to be sure.

When Sam came in to sit by him, Dean offered the younger boy a slight smile.

“How about a sponge bath?” He joked when he was sure that Bobby was out of earshot. 

* * *

Sam shook his head and gave Dean a lopsided grin. "I don't think so. But I did get you this."

He pulled Dean's phone out of his pocket, opened it, and called up the most recent picture taken. He turned it so Dean could see the picture of the backside of the nurse. "Thought you would appreciate it. It was a nice view."

After Dean saw it, he folded the phone closed and after setting it on the table said, "Okay, you can stop gawking at her now." Leaning over, he kissed Dean. Seeing Dean's eyes flick toward the kitchen, Sam own eyes grew mischievous. "Hey Bobby, is it all right if I kiss Dean?"

Bobby's sigh could be heard in the living room. "You work him up and I swear I'll take you over my knee. Or at the least, make you give Rumsfeld a bath. Let him rest."

Looking down at Dean he gave an almost shy smile as he shrugged, a slight color coming to his cheeks. "He asked if we were…together. I…I couldn't exactly lie to him. I mean, he sounded like he was already pretty sure."

"Sam, if Dean's blushing, you use that phone of his to get a picture. Getting that boy to blush is like trying to get his to study, it can be a real feat some times." Bobby said.  


* * *

Dean wasn’t all that surprised by Sam’s refusal, he didn’t actually expect the younger boy to do that, and certainly not with Bobby around, even as nice a mental image as it was. Though when Sam mentioned he got him something and then pulled out his phone Dean raised an eyebrow, definitely curious. And he couldn’t help but grin and chuckle when he saw the picture of a very shapely feminine backside in a tight nurse’s outfit. Why that little devil. Ok, that was definitely becoming the new wallpaper on his phone.

Sam didn’t let him oogle for very long, and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle again when the younger boy shut the phone and set it aside. He was sure that Sam couldn’t be all that jealous since he’d taken the picture for him in the first place, but it was still cute thinking of the younger boy even a little jealous. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one.

When the younger boy leaned in to kiss him he certainly wasn’t complaining, though he glanced briefly towards the doorway just to make sure that Bobby wasn’t around. Nothing could have really prepared him however for when Sam called in to Bobby asking him… what the fuck?! Sam hadn’t just…

Dean’s eyes widened nearly to the point of falling out of his head and he was sure he felt his heart stop, then begin beating so hard and fast in his chest he barely heard Bobby’s reply to Sam. Sam had told him? Sam had _told_ him! Why? Why the fuck would Sam do that? Because Bobby had asked him… oh fuck… oh fuck…

No. He definitely wasn’t blushing. In fact, Dean was pretty sure he was about as pale as a corpse right now despite how hard his heart was pounding in panic. Bobby knew… Bobby knew he was gay, well Bi, and knew that he and Sam were…

“Oh fuck…” Dean whispered, covering his face with his hands, maybe hoping that when he removed them this would turn out to be just a concussion induced nightmare. 

* * *

Bobby walked back into the living room, wiping his hands on a towel. He chuckled softly. "Yer damned lucky he didn't puke all over you for that," Bobby said to Sam. Bobby came around to the back side of the couch and looked down at Dean. Although his face wsa still sovered with his hands, he looked like he really did just want to die, crawl away into a hole first, then curl up and die. Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, Bobby gave the lightest of squeezes. "I'm a hunter you idget. You think I wouldn't notice you were bi? You wanted to keep it secret, so I let you. Don't make no mind to me. You wanna kiss someone and they wanna kiss you back, that's fine, but don't be sucking down their face in front of me. Girl, guy, whoever. You know the rules. That's for the bedroom, not for public display. With the way Sam was acting though, I decided to ask. Probably 't weren't my business, but with him coming over every day I wanted to know if there was something between you." He gently ruffled Dean's hair. "So stop trying to melt into the floor."

Sam gaped at Bobby and at Dean. "He didn't know you knew he was…?" Sam's eyes widened. "Oh crap. I'm sorry Dean! I just assumed you knew he knew, with him asking me like he did. I didn't mean to drop it on you like that!"

Bobby shook his head. "Calm your butt down. I shoulda told you he didn't know. Well, iffen you," he looked down at Dean, "was gonna have one boondoggle of a day, might as well get all the boondoggles out in the open, I s'pose. I gotta make some calls. I'll be in the office. Sammy, you make sure Dean don't move from the couch."

"Yes sir," Sam said, feeling about an inch tall.

As soon as Bobby went into his office Sam took Dean's hand. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me." 

* * *

Dean groaned behind his hands when he heard Bobby come into the room. He was right though. Sam was lucky that he hadn’t puked all over him, but that was still an option the way he felt right now. He really didn’t want to drop his hands, not really wanting to face Bobby right now, but he knew how foolish he probably looked right now. He might as well attempt to face… whatever Bobby said… like a man.

So Dean dropped his hands and looked up at the older man, trying not to look like Bobby was handing out a death sentence or anything. Bobby didn’t look upset, angry, disgusted, or anything but maybe that was for Sam’s benefit?

When Bobby said he’d known all along he was Bi, not even suspected but knew, Dean really did feel like melting into the floor. Yeah, of course he knew that Bobby didn’t miss much, but still… the older man had known and didn’t kick him out? And Bobby didn’t look upset about knowing about him Sam either, even though the other boy was underage. Bobby had already known about him and Sam when he suggested Sam come over tomorrow, so that meant he wasn’t going to try to keep them apart? Ok, that made Dean feel a little bit better. Slightly.

Dean glanced over at Sam when the younger boy began to stutter an apology and wondered if the expression on Sam’s face mirrored his own. Yeah, probably. He threw his arm back over his face with a groan. This was just one fucked up day. He was ready for bed now, he didn’t think he could take anymore.

“Yeah.” Dean said from underneath his arm when Bobby said he was going to work in his office, not sure if the older man even heard him. He felt Sam take his hand and sighed heavily. Maybe one day… a long time from now… he’d find this all funny. A real long time from now.

“I’m not mad.” He mumbled, and he was almost surprised to realize he really wasn’t. Maybe he was just too tired to be mad, but he didn’t think that was it. He was upset, sure, but there was also a strange kind of… relief… lodged in his chest. Dean finally dropped his arm and looked over at the younger boy. “Its fine, Sam. Really.” 

* * *

Sam practically held his breath, waiting for Dean to yell at him, if nothing else for just dropping it all on him with the way he surely felt. When Dean looked at him he could tell Dean really wasn't mad at him and he smiled in relief.

He kissed Dean again. "Okay, good, cause I only took one picture of the nurse and I don't know what else I could do to make you not mad at me. Except for a sponge bath and, uh-uh. Not going to try that today. I'd probably end up dumping the water on you or something."

Adjusting the blanket on Dean, he pulled it up a little more. "You look really tired. Why don't you sleep? I'll be right here if you need anything. It's at least 3 hours before mom or dad comes by to pick me up." His smile wavered a little when he thought about going to school tomorrow alone. He'd just suck it up, tell them Dean stayed home to fix his car but would probably be in by lunch, maybe make them think twice before messing with him. Yeah. Right. He suddenly wondered how much body armor cost and how fast he could get some….or he could just skip school tomorrow. He could just catch the bus, come over to the junkyard instead, and watch over Dean. Course he wouldn't be able to get away with that all week. Well, one day at a time.

Sam grabbed one of his book bags. He might was well at least do some homework while Dean slept. Opening it up his eyes widened. He had Dean's box of fake IDs in there. Nooooo, he was not going to tell Dean. Seeing that Dean already looked like he was asleep, he took the box and slipped out the back door. He went over to the damaged Impala and replaced the box back in the glove box. He walked around the car. If Dean hadn't jumped out of the the way, he'd probably have two broken legs. It made Sam so mad he just wanted to borrow one of Bobby's cars and go run it into Eric's car. Or run it over top of Eric.

Hearing Rumsfeld bark he saw the pizza delivery car approaching. He heard Bobby's voice but couldn't make out the words over the ruckus Rumsfeld was making. Then suddenly Rumsfeld went silent. Maybe the friendly dog was a better junkyard dog than Sam gave him credit for. He certainly sounded like he would rip off someone's face. He hurried back into the house just as Bobby was bringing in the pizza.

They kept their voices down as that sat at the kitchen table and dug into the steaming pie.

"Dean said I could ask you if you wanted help going through your books. I saw you were doing stuff on werewolves. He almost giggled. "Is that what you hunt?"

Bobby looked up at him and smirked. "You bet, kiddo. Werewolves and ghosts and goblins."

"And demons and dragons?" Sam laughed.

"Not dragons. You're Japanese. Dragons are the good guys. Can shapeshift into people, you know."

Sam bobbed his head. "Yeah, Mom used to tell me stories about them. My ancestral grandfather, he was a dragon they say."

"You ever try to shapeshift into a dragon, Sammy," Bobby teased.

"Course. I go flying every Sunday with my mom," Sam said in a mock serious tone.

Bobby laughed. "I bet you do."

"So can I?"

"Can you what?" Bobby said.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Help you go through the books and do the indexing or researching or whatever you do."

Bobby pulled at his lower lip for a minute. "Let me think about that. Maybe."

"I'll be really careful with the books. I promise."

"I don't doubt that."

Sam tilted his head. "Are you catholic?" he asked suddenly.

"No. I go to a catholic church about once a month though. Why?"  
Sam pointed to the necklace Bobby had on. "You're wearing a saint's medal. I have that same saint on the back of my watch."

"Really?" Bobby said. "Lemme see."

Sam pulled off his watch and handed it over. Bobby wiped his hands free of the pizza grease and accepted the watch. He studied the engraving for a moment then handed it back. "It's supposed to protect you from evil."

"I know," Sam said. "Mom can be pretty superstitious at times. Won't let me go anywhere without it."

"She got any other superstitions?" Bobby asked casually. It was obvious she had hunters in the family based on the bow, though he wasn't certain she really knew what she had. Could she be hunter? Or used to be a hunter?"

"I guess. This is the big one though. And the ceremony to respect the ancestors four times a year. But that's not really superstitious I guess."

"No, just tradition," Bobby said, but wondered. "I'm going to ask your parents to let you stay home from school tomorrow if you're willing. Could use some help watching of Dean."

Sam brightened. "Yeah! I'd be happy to!"

"Good. Want to help me work on Dean's car tomorrow?"

"I don’t really know anything about—" Sam began.

"Just need an extra pair of hands."

"Okay. Just don't me screw anything up."

Bobby gave a sharp nod. "You'll do fine."

Once they were done eating, Sam returned to Dean's side, scooting the chair closer so he could take Dean's hand and hold onto it while he was studying. Somewhere along the way he let his eyes close for just a moment and was asleep in nothing flat.

* * *

Sam looked so damned relieved that Dean knew he probably couldn’t have stayed mad at the younger boy even if he had been angry. In fact, the way Sam kissed him he knew he couldn’t even stay the least bit upset. It wasn’t really Sam’s fault after all. Dean had never told the younger boy that Bobby didn’t know he was Bi… well, that he didn’t know that Bobby knew he was Bi…

Dean sighed softly. His head hurt too much for this.

Though he managed to give Sam a slight smile when Sam joked about dumping water on him, yeah, with the day he’d been having, that’s probably what would happen too. Not today? Maybe another day? Dean grinned a little more at that implication Sam probably didn’t even mean to make. He would have to bring it up some time. Later… much later…

“Yeah. Ok…” Dean agreed softly. He really was feeling like hell, exhausted, and a few hours of sleep will probably do him some good. Hell, at this point he’d probably sleep for the rest of the night… well, he would have if Bobby didn’t have to wake him up every hour. Damn that was going to suck. He fucking hated concussions…

Dean watched the younger boy get settled in the chair beside the couch, closed his eyes, and he was out like a light.

The first time he woke up was to the sound of Rumsfeld’s barking out front. Not a playful barking but a warning barking. That might have alarmed him a little but before he could even sit up he heard Bobby’s voice as well, then Sam’s, and the smell of pizza, so he simply shut his eyes again and let himself fall back to sleep. The next time he woke up was to Bobby’s gentle shaking and though it left Dean grumbling he went through the motions of focusing and telling the older man how many fingers he was holding in front of his face. The sooner it was over the sooner he could go back to sleep. 

* * *

Sam stretched and yawned sleepily. He blinked his eyes and looked around slowly, utterly baffled as to where he was. He was sans socks and shoes, but otherwise still dressed but laying in bed. Not his bed. He saw the light and turned it on. With the light on, he realized he was in Dean's bed, in his bedroom. His mind went into overdrive trying to put the pieces together. Where was Dean? Had they…? No, Dean had a concussion, down on the couch still probably. He had a vague recollection of Bobby waking him and helping him get up the stairs and into bed. Looking at the clock he saw it said 5 and based on the fact is was twilight, he had a feeling that was 5 am not pm. He threw off the covers, pulled on his socks, and padded to the door.

"Yer up early. Then again you been sleeping for almost twelve hours."

Walking down the stairs Sam yawned, scrubbing his face with his hand. "What happened? I mean, why am I still here? Dean okay?"

Bobby looked up from his desk where books were scattered. "I talked with your mom. She agreed to let you stay the night, and stay here today. No school."

"Really?" Sam asked, his brain still trying to catch up with everything. "Do I smell coffee?"

Bobby snorted. "Yeah, fresh pot is brewing."

"You been up all night?"

"Nah. Got up every couple hours to wake sleeping beauty there, feed him his pain pills and such, but otherwise, I slept most the night. Bring me in a cup of coffee, would ya?"

Sam trod out to the kitchen and finding two mugs, poured them each a cup. After tasting it and making a face he added sugar and milk to his own. He brought the mugs out and handed one to Bobby. He glanced over at the sleeping figure. "How's Dean?"

"Fine. Slept pretty quiet most the night. The swelling on his ankle's gone down. I'll change out his bandages on his side in a bit."

"…Is it weird? Knowing me and Dean are…dating?"

Bobby sat back in his chair and looked up at Sam. "Is it weird for you?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. I never…I never considered dating a guy. Then he offered to sponsor me, but I didn't realize that's what he was saying. When I did, I figured he was better than Eric. We made out and…I liked it. It's still kind of messing with my head. I don't know if I'm gay or bi, or maybe just gay when it comes to Dean. He's not making me do anything I don't want to, Bobby," Sam added hastily. "I don't want you to think he ever made me do anything. I thought I'd have to, you know, put out, for him to keep protecting me but after some serious miscommunications between us, we got that worked out and I know he doesn't expect anything. I think it's weird for him too. And I feel really weird talking to you about this but you're the only one who knows and …"

"I get it. That's okay," Bobby said. He didn't want to hear explicit details but from what he's seen of Sam, Sam was probably too shy to say 'penis' in front on anyone except his doctor and he'd probably still use a euphemism then. "It probably is odd for Dean. He doesn't have long term relationships, least ways, not that I'm aware of."

"So what are you doing?"

"Researching werewolves." Bobby said.

"Why?"

The older man chuckled softly. "Because researching big bad legendary creatures is my hobby. The books," he glanced around, "they're just a side effect of that."

"Do you publish any of your research?"

"I share it with others with similar hobbies, so in a way, yeah, I s'pose I do." Bobby pushed himself to his feet. "Since you're up, I need to run an errand. I probably won't be back until about nine or ten. Your mom's going to drop off some fresh clothes for you when she's headed out to work. Rumsfeld is still on guard duty. He knows your mom is a friend, but if he gets himself in a lather, just tell him, 'friend' and 'quiet.' I already warned her, so she won't be getting out of her car just in case Rumsfeld decides not to listen to you. You'll have to go out and get them from her.

"I've got Dean's pill schedule written down on a tablet on the coffee table. When he wakes up he can take a vicadin, he can take those every three hours. At eight, he needs his antibiotic and ibuprofen. There's a jar on the floor by the couch. He can take care of his business in that if he's got to piss. Get some orange juice down him when he wakes up, if he stays awake, half a glass at least. He can have coffee if he wants it. If he's hungry, fix him a scrambled egg and toast. No bacon, nothing greasy. He can sit up if he wants, but unless he's gotta take a shit, I want his butt on that couch. If he has a prayer of being up to going to school tomorrow, he's got to get as much rest as possible today. Remind him of that if he gives you any crap."

Sam nodded his understanding.

"My number's in Dean's phone if you need me. If he starts throwing up, call me but I don't think he will at this point. He tries to get up too fast and he might. If he's not awake by eight, wake him and give him his pills. If you can't wake him, call me. Any problems—"

"I got it Bobby. Call you."

Bobby grunted, walked into the kitchen and poured the coffee into a travel mug then topped it off. He walked back out to the living room where Sam stood.

"Help yerself to breakfast." He hesitated a minute. "Don't be answering that door for no one, not delivery folk, mail, nothing and no one. You get your stuff from your mom and you come back inside. I'll be pulling the gate closed behind me, so it'll say closed as far as the salvage yard is concerned. There's a shotgun filled with rock salt in that closet. Scares people, hurts like a mother, but won't do no one any real harm and you don't have to be a good aim with it. There's a pistol in my desk, left upper drawer, and that one's loaded with proper bullets."

Sam's eyes grew wide. "You-you don’t think—"

"No, but upon rare occasion some idget has tried to rob me. I just wanted you to know you got resources if you need 'em."

"Uh, okay. Thanks," Sam said, really hoping he didn't need to see either of those guns.

"See you in a few hours, Sammy."

"'Kay. Bye."

Once Bobby was gone, Sam made himself some breakfast then afterward began looking through the books Bobby had out and started making notes. At least, making notes from the books written in a language he could actually read.

 

* * *

Dean wasn’t sure if it was the sound of voices talking that roused him or the smell of coffee. Maybe a little bit of both. Though neither were enough to make him wake up completely, he was still too tired for that. Having been woken up every hour or two to make sure he didn’t slip into a coma or anything wasn’t a very restful sleep. Even though he’d technically been sleeping for a good eleven or twelve hours by this point he still felt exhausted.

He hovered in that in between stage of asleep and awake for what felt like a long time. Aware but not aware. No more voices. The smell of food which wasn’t as appetizing as it should have been. Then the even softer sound of pages turning and the scratches of a pencil against paper.

Dean probably would have been lulled back completely asleep by the familiar, almost comforting, sounds except that his various aches and pains were beginning to make themselves more and more known. His medications were wearing off again and the pain is what finally pushed him more towards waking.

He blinked his eyes open, slowly focusing on his surroundings. His head felt groggy and his thoughts slow, and he knew that was partially due to the concussion and partially due to his medication. At least they’d given him the good drugs.

Of course he recognized he was in the living room lying on the couch. The same place he’d been every other time he woke during the night, so he wasn’t alarmed or anything. He was glad he remembered those other times he woke and why he was here in the first place. Short term memory loss wasn’t uncommon with concussions and he certainly didn’t want to deal with that on top of anything… though if he had forgotten anything how would he know he’d forgotten it? Too early… too damned early to start thinking like that. Especially since it made his brain hurt.

Dean sighed softly. The light was faint in the living room but he could tell it was morning even though the drapes were closed. Dean was glad that they were or the sunlight that usually came in right through the front windows would probably have burned his eyes out of his head.

He turned his head slowly to the side and was a little surprised to see that it wasn’t Bobby sitting at the desk making notes as he’d assumed but Sam. Though Dean wasn’t sure which he was more surprised about, the fact that Sam was here so early in the morning, or that Bobby had apparently given the younger boy permission to go through his books after all. Yeah, he’d told Sam that Bobby probably wouldn’t have minded, but he was still a bit surprised.

“Hey.” Dean managed softly, even though his voice caught a little in his dry throat. 

* * *

Sam looked up when he heard Dean and smiled. "Hey."

Setting down the pencil, he double checked where he was in the book. He was learning all sorts of things about werewolves. It was sort of a fun diversion from his regular studies. He decided that he would like helping Bobby go through the old books. He had gotten caught up enough in reading the stuff that a couple times he had to go back and re read so he could take the notes he was suppose to be taking. He wished he read Latin. He could translate a little of the one book, but not very much, just a word here and there. Pushing away from the desk he got up and walked over to Dean and got out his pills. "It'll be another hour before you can take the ibuprofen, but you can take a vicodin now."

Handing Dean the water and the pills he waited until Dean took them then put the empty glass back on the coffee table. "Bobby said you could have eggs and toast if you were hungry, and there's a jar," he pointed to the empty jar on the table, "if you gotta pee. You're allowed to sit up but not get up. He'll be back in a few hours, he said he had a few errands to run."

Sam plopped himself in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "My mom ought to be here soon with some clean clothes for me. Bobby had me just stay the night." He grinned at Dean. "You have a comfortable bed. So how are you feeling? Your dizziness gone? You want some fresh ice for your ankle or side?"

* * *

Dean nodded and pushed himself up a little bit to take the pill that Sam gave him, wincing a little at the pull to the stitches in his side. Yeah, it was going to be a while before that stopped hurting every time he moved. He didn’t lay back down though, he’d been asleep for so damned long at this point he wanted to try staying awake for a little while. Besides, his ass was starting to get sore. Sure the couch was pretty comfortable to sleep on, but it wasn’t meant to serve as a bed 24/7.

When Sam mentioned food, Dean wasn’t really sure if he wanted to try eating or not. He was kind of hungry at this point, since he hadn’t eaten for over twelve hours by now, but he was still feeling crappy enough he wasn’t sure if anything he ate would make a swift reappearance if he tried.

Then Sam motioned to the jar on the table and Dean made a face. Bobby had made him piss in that last night too, not letting him get up from the couch to even go to the bathroom. It had been embarrassing enough having to do that in front of Bobby, no way in hell he was going to do it in front of Sam. And if Bobby wasn’t here, then he could at least get up to take a piss, damn it.

So Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the way his side complained and turned to put his feet on the floor. Damn. His ankle was still fucking sore. He could tell the swelling had gone down though because the bandage was a little bit loose around it, not giving much support. He would have to rewrap it before he even tried getting up.

He looked up at the younger boy when Sam mentioned how comfy his bed was and returned the grin.

“Glad you liked it.” He replied then shrugged a little. “Feel like crap, but expected that. Mostly gone I think. I’ll know when I try to get up. Can you wrap that a little tighter?”

Dean nodded down to his ankle. He’d do it himself but he wasn’t sure how good bending down would feel right now considering how much his side hurt. Probably wouldn’t feel good at all. 

* * *

Sam knew good and well why Dean wanted his ankle wrapped and debated if he should. Dean wasn't supposed to get up, but if he were Dean, he'd want to get up just to get up and stretch for a few minutes,. And maybe Dean had to do more than piss. Of course if Sam didn't wrap it, he knew Dean would simply do it himself.

"Uhm, I can try."

Carefully Sam moved the coffee table back then knelt on the floor and gingerly unwrapped Dean's ankle, trying to be very careful not to jar it or move it. The swelling had definitely gone down but the bruising was practically psychedelic. He didn't think he'd ever seen so many different colors for bruises. Remembering how the wrap had been done, he began re-wrapping the ankle, trying to get that delicate balance between tight enough to support without being too tight and cutting off blood flow. He had just finished securing the end when Rumsfeld started barking his head off on the porch. "That's probably Mom."

Sam pushed himself to his feet and peeked out the front window. "Yep, it's Mom. I'll be right back."

Unlocking the front door, Sam waved at his mom and started down the steps when Rumsfeld dashed in front of him blocking his path. He was surprised and stopped. "Rumsfeld it's my mom," Sam said. After a moment he said firmly. "Friend."

Rumsfeld's hackles were still raised and he growled softly.

"Friend. Porch," Sam said and pointed back to the spot on the porch. Rumsfeld looked at him like he was nuts. Rumsfeld stayed where he was at the bottom of the porch and sat down, but continued to growl softly. Sam walked around him and crossed to the SUV.

"How's Dean doing?" Keiko asked her son after she rolled down her window.

"Probably trying to get up by himself and go to the bathroom right now. He just woke up. He seems a lot more with it but I can tell he still hurts a lot." Sam frowned then said quietly, "Mom, I'm worried Eric might try to hurt you or Dad, too."

Keiko handed out a gym bag to him. "Don't you worry about us. He has no idea who he's screwing with."

"But Mom, he hired some guy to try to run Dean down. His family probably has enough clout to get you or dad fired or something."

She smiled and placed her hand on his cheek. "We lose our jobs, you stop going to school there. We get hurt and have to go to the hospital, or a car ends up in the shop, and again, money's too tight and you can't go to school there."

"But it's already paid for right now."

"We can withdraw you can get back some of the money. I don't think he'll risk that. Sammy, trust me. If he tries to hurt me or your father, he's going to get a rude awakening."

"…he tried to hurt Dean. Well, I mean he did hurt Dean. Can you…can we give him that rude awakening now?"

Keiko's lips pressed firmly together and her eyes grew dark. "That's for Bobby to handle if he wants. But if Eric tries to hurt Dean again, I'll pull in some favors, okay?"

"Why can't you pull in those favors now? Get Eric to back off?"

Her smile was a little strained. "These are special favors, Sweetheart. I'd rather not use them if I don't have to."

Sam furrowed his brow. His mom got weird like this sometimes. He just chalked it up to her Japanese heritage. He also knew he wouldn't get much else out of her so he let it drop for now. "Thanks for letting me stay with Dean today."

"Bobby was quite persuasive. If Eric does anything else to you, anything at all, don't you keep that from me, am I clear young man?"

"Yes ma'am," Sam said.

She gave him a smile and indicated for him to lean in the window. When he did she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Have a good day, Sammy. At least you and Dean will have plenty of time to study for that big exam tomorrow."

Sam tilted his head in confusion then realized that he and Dean were suppose to go out tonight and he was going to lose his virginity, and he'd told his mom…"Oh. I forgot about it with all the stuff happening."

"I'm not surprised. I'll see you tonight Sweetheart. Have a good day."

Sam bobbed his head. "You, too."

He walked back up to the porch and waved at his mom as the SUV pulled away.

"So how's your ankle feel?" Sam asked as he stepped back inside and locked the door behind him.

* * *

Dean could see the hesitation in Sam’s expressive eyes, and half expected an argument on his hands. Yeah, they both knew if Bobby was here the older man wouldn’t let him get up, but he wasn’t going to push it. He knew better than that, but he wasn’t crippled either. How was he going to know his limits if he didn’t test them at least a little?

When Sam finally agreed to rewrap his ankle, Dean gave the younger boy a smile of thanks. Doing his best not to wince when Sam knelt down and started undoing the loosened wrapping around his foot and ankle. He did frown however when he got a good look at it for the first time. Mother fucker. Ok, yeah, it could be worse. It could have been broken and just looking at it he knew it almost had been. If it had been, he definitely wouldn’t be walking any time soon and he needed to be walking by tomorrow.

He’d need to find a way to splint it today. He thought they had one in one of their first-aid kits he just had to find it. Sam did a pretty good job wrapping it back up at least. It would due for now at least, since he wouldn’t be walking very far. Dean knew he would definitely need something more for tomorrow though.

When he heard Rumsfeld begin barking in warning however Dean tensed. He grit his teeth as he started pushing himself up from the couch to stand, not really reassured when he watched Sam check out the window and confirm it was his mom. The protections and sigils around the salvage yard kept out most supernatural creatures, but there was always a chance of one of the more powerful ones getting through.

While it was pretty doubtful any demon would possess Sam’s mom and come here just to throw them off guard or something Dean had learned the hard way to always be prepared for the worst. Eric’s little stunt yesterday had reminded him of that. So when Sam went outside, instead of going to the bathroom Dean hobbled over to the closet and got out the shotgun full of rock salt they always kept stashed there then went to watch over by the door.

He watched as Sam talked to his mom. Watched as the SUV pulled out of the salvage yard. He only started to relax as she got out to pull the gate closed behind her again. When the she got back in the SUV again and drove away Dean returned the gun to the closet then hobbled down the hall to the bathroom to do what he meant to do before. Taking care of whatever business he could while he was up now because he knew he wouldn’t be getting up again anytime soon.

“Like shit.” Dean grunted his reply to Sam’s question when he came out of the bathroom. 

* * *

"You shouldn't be walking on that!" Sam scolded him though he had to admit he was rather glad he didn't have to deal with a jar of urine to dispose of. He dumped the stuff his mom and brought him and dashed to Dean's side, offering support so Dean didn't have to put all his weight onto his foot. He helped settled Dean back onto the couch.

"Sit down. I'll get you breakfast. And Bobby wants you to drink some juice even if you aren't hungry."

Sam retrieved a glass of orange juice then returned to the kitchen and fixed Dean a light breakfast. A little of the coffee cake was left so he cut off a small slice and included in on the plate that he brought back in to Dean.

"Do you want the TV remote? Can I get you anything else? If not, I'm going to shower and get into some fresh clothes."

* * *

Dean snorted softly when Sam ‘scolded’ him for walking on his ankle. Well, how else was he supposed to get to the bathroom? Crawl? He didn’t protest the younger boy’s help getting him back to the couch however. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad when he sat down again and hoped he wouldn’t have to get up for a good long while.

“Alright.” He replied, giving the younger boy a slight smile as Sam went into the kitchen for the promised juice and to fix him breakfast. Once the younger boy was gone however Dean closed his eyes as he relaxed back against the cushions of the couch. He hoped Sam didn’t notice how much of a strain that had put on him. He didn’t want Sam telling Bobby he’d been up and about or give the younger boy any doubts that he might not be ready to return to school tomorrow.

He was going, damn it. He wasn’t going to let that bastard Eric win.

Dean sipped slowly at the glass of orange juice Sam returned with. Making sure each drink stayed where it belonged before he took another. He was rather pleased actually how well the juice went down. He hoped the food Sam was making for him did the same.

When the younger boy returned with the plate of eggs and toast, Dean didn’t even complain about the lack of bacon. He gave Sam another thankful smile.

“Sure, I’ll take the remote. Thanks.” Dean said as he picked up a slice of toast and took a bite he hoped didn’t look overly cautious. His grin turned a little wicked when Sam mentioned the shower. “I’m still waiting on that sponge bath. Since you’re my nurse and all, now.” 

* * *

Sam felt the blush creep up his cheeks at the look Dean gave him. He didn't begin to know how to give a sponge bath. He could…try he supposed. Bobby wouldn't be home for awhile yet. He really didn't want Bobby come in seeing him give Dean a bath. And Dean probably wouldn't mind a light wash down. Who was he kidding? Dean would love a light wash down, but what Sam meant was that Dean could probably use it. He knew Dean wasn't allowed to shower for a few days because of the stitches, or at least, couldn't get the stitches wet. A sponge bath would probably feel kinda nice. He'd never had one that he could recall, so he had no idea.

So what would he use? Buckets, they probably had left over cleaners and stuff, still what else was there? The trash can. The trashcan in the bathroom. He could wash it out and that would be pretty good to use, he thought. So….a soapy wash cloth, a rinse cloth and a towel. Without a word he headed back to the guest bathroom with his clothes. He turned on the water and pulled out the bag of trash in the trashcan. He washed the can out really good, even wiping it down with some alcohol and then washed it again. Throwing a couple towels over his shoulder, he decided a hand towel would make a good rinse cloth and picked up a fresh one, then took everything out to Dean. He set the trashcan on the floor and towels on the coffee table.

"Okay. Sponge bath. I have no idea what I'm doing so no making fun of me."

Sam stripped off his shirt, dunked the wash cloth in the water and lightly soaped it. "Okay, I guess we'll start with your chest. Keep this towel over your side so the bandages don't get wet." 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin even more as he watched the color rising to Sam’s cheeks at so little provocation. He knew he could have lots of fun today just trying to see how many shades of red Sam could turn. Though he might want to take it a little easy, he wouldn’t want to have to explain to Bobby why Sam suddenly spontaneously combusted.

Though the longer Sam sat there, just looking at him and blushing, the harder it was to keep from snickering. Dean could practically see the wheels turning in Sam’s head and he wondered what Sam was thinking about. The fact that the younger boy hadn’t flat out told him ‘no’ like the previous times Dean had joked about it was definitely promising though.

When Sam finally just got up without saying anything and left the room, Dean did laugh a little. Ah well, it was worth it anyway just to see the younger boy blush again.

He started eating again, figuring that Sam was just going to take his own shower now, so he was a bit surprised when the younger boy returned with the trash can filled with water and some towels. Sam was really going to? Ok, he’d only been half joking about the suggestion, but he certainly wasn’t going to refuse.

Dean set the mostly empty plate aside and grinned at Sam.

“No making fun. Cross my heart.” He replied, making the motion across his chest, before leaning back against the couch cushions. Taking the towel from Sam and holding it over the bandages on his side as requested. Letting his eyes roam freely over the younger boy’s exposed chest appreciatively. After the day he’d had yesterday, this was definitely an improvement. 

* * *

Sam began to slowly wash around Dean's neck, making a few swipes with the soapy rag then following up with the rinse rag. He tried hard to keep any water from dribbling down Dean's chest, chasing stray dribbles with the rinse rag.

"Why don't I do your back, because that'll probably be hardest on you, then you can lean back while I do your chest."

He helped Dean shift and lean forward and he repeated how he'd done Dean's neck. He marveled at the muscles as he ran the rag over Dean's back. He traced over a few scars, the skin shiny and glistening white. So many scars considering Dean's age. He watched in fascination the way the water played over Dean's muscles, the way the soap bubbles rolled down Dean's back. He quickly draped the spare towel along Dean's lower back to keep from getting the couch wet. He wondered what it would be like to use his tongue to trace along those muscles, lick across the scars, and wondered if Dean would like that. When Dean was better, maybe he'd try that and see. Would it feel as good for Dean as when Sam sucked and toyed with Dean's nipples? Probably not but it might still draw some interesting sounds out of the senior. Damn Eric anyhow. He wasn't going to be able to make out with Dean until the stitches healed. At least, he probably shouldn't.

After finishing the slow, long strokes on Dean's back he did Dean's sides, trying to be careful not to tickle. That was the last thing Dean needed. He moved to the youth's shoulders next. "Okay, let's lean you back now," Sam said and once again helped Dean ease back, making sure Dean didn't put any stress on his stitches.

"Arms now," Sam said and ran the soapy rag over his biceps then lifted his arm and made a gasping sound. "Stink City!"

Sam grinned then and laughed at the look on Dean's face. "I'm joking. Mostly." He giggled and worked his way down the rest of Dean's arm. When he reached Dean's hand he turned it palm up and ran the rag over it, looking up briefly into Dean's face. The way Dean watched him was somewhere between unnerving, embarrassing, and flattering.

Sam did Dean's other arm, having to lean across him a little. He could feel Dean's body heat and felt his cock twitch. He tried to ignore it, ignore being so close to the senior's body but it was hard. He glanced sidelong at Dean. "Stop that. You're gonna make me blush or something again."

Sam was really more concerned about the 'something.' He didn't want to get distracted, but he knew he was probably being more sensual in running the rag over Dean than he would have been with someone else. He couldn't deny he was enjoying the almost innocent investigation of Dean's body.

After getting fresh suds on the rag he began on Dean's chest, again taking his time and being thorough and loving every freaking moment of running that rag over the senior's chest. At this point his cock was definitely taking notice.

* * *

With a soft sigh, Dean felt himself relaxing even more when Sam began washing around his neck and collar bone with the wet rag. It felt surprisingly nice. Though he wasn’t all that sure if it was just the warm water or the fact that it was Sam doing the washing that made it so nice. He could definitely get used to this.

Though when Sam suggested that he lean forward to do his back first, Dean made a face, but he complied anyway. The younger boy was probably right, best to get the unpleasant part out of the way first, but knowing that didn’t make bending forward any easier. His bruised side, especially where the stitches pulled, protesting quite a bit.

Dean didn’t voice his discomfort though. Merely closed his eyes and focused on the more pleasant sensations of the warm rag running over his shoulders and down his back. The feel of Sam’s fingers tracing over his muscles. The scent of the younger boy so close… He could tell the way Sam’s fingers ghosted along his skin that the younger boy was examining his various scars he’d collected over the years. Both gained from hunting and… before.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Sam thought of all his scars. Was the younger boy disgusted by them? That seemed unlikely, given the careful way Sam examined them. Dean wasn’t sure what he was going to say if Sam ever asked him about them though. Hell, not even Bobby knew where he got most of his scars from. Sure, the older man knew where he’d gotten the ones from hunting, but not the others. Dean didn’t like talking about it…

Dean was both glad and a little disappointed when Sam told him to lean back again. Relaxing back against the couch cushions he watched the younger boy, letting Sam maneuver him any way he liked. Though when Sam lifted his arm and made his exclamation, Dean raised an eyebrow then rolled his eyes at the younger boy. Trying to look put upon and not laugh. Though it was difficult considering the way Sam was giggling. _Giggling_. Dean couldn’t help smiling fondly at the younger boy as he watched Sam work.

He couldn’t help but chuckle a little when Sam accused him of trying to make him blush again.

“What? I’m not doing anything.” Dean replied innocently. Even as he let his eyes trail over Sam’s neck and down his chest when the younger boy leaned in close to him. It was all Dean could do to keep his hands at his sides, letting Sam work, and not reach around to hug Sam closer to him, pressing their bodies together, instead.

He couldn’t deny his body’s reaction’s however, the growing heaviness in his groin from the younger boy’s proximity and Sam’s touch no matter how innocent. When Sam began washing his chest, Dean sighed contentedly. Watching as the younger boy moved the rag slowly over his muscles, leaving suds and dripping water down his chest. Until he finally reached up to catch Sam’s hand, taking the rag from him as he moved Sam’s fingers to touch his bare skin rather than having the cloth separate them. 

* * *

Sam's gaze flicked to Dean's face when Dean grabbed his hand. Sam shook his head, a shy smile curving his lips, but began using his hand to wash Dean's chest. He liked the smooth slick skin under his fingers and feeling the muscles that seemed to somehow both tense and relax under his touch. He used the rinse rag to keep the soap from dripping too far down Dean's stomach.

"Keep that towel against your stitches," Sam scolded. "I shouldn't be doing this. The last thing you need is to be getting all riled up." He shifted a little uncomfortably. "I seem to be doing enough of that for the both of us." He blushed at the admission. "You are utterly and completely evil, you know that? You make me blush at everything. I'm not…geez, I have never blushed like you make me blush. Doesn't exactly do a lot for making me feel manly and crap you know," Sam teased. Even though he told Dean he shouldn't get riled up Sam just couldn't resist running his hands over Dean's nipples. "I like the way your wet skin feels under my hand," he admitted softly. "Maybe…maybe when you're better we can workout, you training me to fight and all, and then maybe…maybe we could try showering together or something." He snorted a little. "No, that's probably a bad idea cause then I'll end up with a woody every day in gym class when we're getting our showers and that would be more embarrassing than anything."

He wanted to lean in and kiss Dean, but he knew, just knew where that would lead and Dean was in no shape for that. And cleaning up cum from the couch and carpet? Yeah, not something he wanted to do today.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the look Sam gave him. Scolding and shy at the same time but he noticed that Sam didn’t protest in the least and simply started stroking his chest with his wet soapy fingers. The younger boy’s fingers almost massaging his skin, making Dean sigh at the pleasant feeling that was just as relaxing as it was arousing. Watching the younger boy through hooded eyelashes as Sam worked.

Though his lips twitched at Sam’s words and how the younger boy was blushing yet again. Sam might not like blushing so much, but Dean certainly enjoyed it.

“I know. I like it when you blush.” Dean replied simply, grinning, when Sam called him evil. Maybe he was ‘evil’ but Sam was the one playing with his nipples, making his thickening cock twitch a little at the attention. A soft moan escaping his lips in spite of himself.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam’s idea. Showering together? Not that he didn’t like the idea but he was just surprised to hear Sam suggest it. Considering how shy and innocent Sam behaved most of the time. Though the younger boy did have his passionate moments, he couldn’t deny that.

“I think you’re not quite as innocent as you pretend to be.” Dean teased back, running his hand up the length of Sam’s bare arm to the back of the younger boy’s neck. Letting his fingers play through the soft hair there for a moment then tugging Sam a little closer to him.

“You know what will make me feel even better?” He whispered softly. 

* * *

"I am too innocent!" Sam protested. "You just make me horny," he added sheepishly. He rolled his neck at Dean's gentle touch. Smiling he laughed a little. "Yeah, and you're way too bruised and hurt for that. If I start to kiss you…I won't wanna stop." Even after saying those words, he still leaned in and gave Dean a light kiss but pulled back before Dean could deepen it. "No," he told him firmly. "Behave. I would positively die if Bobby came back and we were in the middle of your sponge bath…or something else."

After rinsing Dean's chest free of the suds he wiped his chest dry of the water. He grabbed the blanket and flipped it off Dean's legs and up, across his chest, and over his head. "Anyone ever tell you you have like tree-trunks for legs? You could probably kick down a brick wall with these muscles."

Sam hissed when he saw all the bruising that ran up Dean's left side of his leg. "I wanna kill that fucking bastard," he muttered darkly. Sam soaped up his hands and very gently ran one of those hands over the bruising while he took the rinse cloth and tenderly wiped away the suds. When he moved to Dean's inner thigh with that hand he raised an eyebrow. "I think you're enjoying this way too much for your condition, Dude," he teased, but swallowed hard, forcing his gaze away from Dean's tenting undershorts. He doggedly focused on Dean's legs as he washed them, unable to help but admire the ropes of muscles he found there. "God you are so…perfect," Sam whispered as he dried Dean's legs.

So this was it. He was down to Dean's privates. The absurd thought came into his head that since Dean was already pretty erect, it would make washing easy. He suddenly pushed himself to his feet.

"I'll be right back," he told Dean and headed upstairs to Dean's room. Looking at the bureau, considering the other surprises he had found in this house and Dean's car, he decided he didn't want to rummage and find something he didn't want to know about. He turned and called back down. "Dude, which drawer has fresh underwear in it?"

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh loudly at Sam’s declaration that he was innocent, and that it was _his_ fault for making the younger boy horny. Ok, maybe he was a lot more pleased with himself than he should be at that, but he didn’t really care. Giving the younger boy a shit eating grin, he wanted to protest that he wasn’t too sore if Sam did all the work, before Sam leaned in to kiss him.

He closed his eyes and made a definite sound of approval, flicking his tongue out to lick at Sam’s sweet lips, but before he could do anything more the little tease was pulling away again. Dean stuck his lower lip out in an over exaggerated pout, though he did have to agree with Sam, even if he wouldn’t admit it aloud. He definitely didn’t want Bobby to come back and find them in the middle of anything. Even if the older man seemed to accept that he and Sam were fucking… best not push it.

Dean snorted in amusement both at Sam’s playfulness and his comments regarding his legs when Sam flipped the blanket covering his legs up over his head. He shook his head free and tossed it over the back of the couch instead, running his fingers through his short hair to get rid of the static.

When Sam’s expression turned darker, Dean reached down to run his fingers lightly through Sam’s hair again in a soothing motion even though his sentiment was much the same. Eric was going to wish he’d fucking killed him with that damned stunt once Dean was through with him.

Though Dean couldn’t deny he was really enjoying the fact that Sam hadn’t taken up his rag again, instead using his hands to gently soap up and down his legs and along his thighs. His lips quirking when Sam mentioned his ‘enjoyment’ considering his ‘condition’. Well, he was bruised and concussed, he wasn’t dead.

He was surprised by the light color that blossomed on his own cheeks when Sam called him ‘perfect’. Sure he’d been praised about his looks and his body plenty of times, but the way Sam said it…

Then the younger boy was staring at his crotch and damn if that didn’t just make him a little bit harder still… at least until Sam suddenly jumped up and ran off and Dean wasn’t sure whether to be amused or disappointed. When he heard Sam run up the stairs and then seconds later call down asking him about underwear, he settled on amused and there was laugher in his voice as he answered.

“Top drawer.” Dean called back up, leaning his head back against the couch cushions with his hands folded behind it as he waited for Sam to return. 

* * *

Sam retrieved a pair of clear underwear for Dean and came back down the stairs. He set them on the chair and looked at Dean. "Now comes the fun part. Getting the old ones off without you having to move too much."

Realizing what he just said, about the 'fun part', Sam felt his cheeks color. "No, wait! That isn't what I meant. I mean, I didn't mean it *that* way." He huffed and sank down to his knees. "Oh, fuck it. You know what I mean." He glared at Dean and his obvious amusement.

Sam drew upon his nerves to do what he had to do next. It was stupid he was so nervous about it. It was just, well, embarrassing. He took hold of Dean's underwear. "Okay you lift and I'll get them down," he told him, trying not to feel awkward and embarrassed by it all.

When Dean lifted up a little is was enough for Sam to get his undershorts down and off of him. He couldn't help but stare at Dean in his full naked glory. He blinked and looked up at Dean. "Um, do you want me to, you know, or do you want to, um wash it yourself?"

* * *

Dean turned his head slightly when Sam returned and he couldn’t help but grin when Sam started talking and almost immediately started blushing at the same time. It wasn’t even his fault this time, which was the most amusing part. He was going to have to tease Sam later about his ‘dirty’ thoughts. He didn’t want to do it right now, because he was afraid the younger boy might just bolt on him and Dean couldn’t exactly follow.

“I know what you mean.” Dean replied, grinning meaningfully at the younger boy kneeling on the floor practically between his legs.

Dean knew he probably should be doing this by himself. Or at least offer to, since Sam seemed so nervous about it, but really, Dean wasn’t sure he could get his undershorts off without bending and he really didn’t want to bend again anytime soon if it was all possible. His side was still hurting something fierce from the first time.

So when Sam grabbed the waistband of his underwear, Dean did his best to help, balancing on his good foot and lifting his hips up a little so the younger boy could drag them down off his legs. Sam certainly didn’t seem all that shy about staring at his cock once he’d gotten his undershorts off though, and that made Dean smile.

Dean thought for a moment about Sam’s question before asking, “Do you want to?” 

* * *

  


Sam debated long and hard. It was stupid to be so shy about this, but hell, if he was doing this for a girl he'd be totally and completely beet red and so embarrassed he'd be hyperventilating.

"I...I can do this," he said, almost more to himself than to Dean. He then debated whether he should use the washcloth or not. He knew Dean would prefer he didn't. He just wasn't sure what he wanted. Touching Dean so intimately was kind of…scary. Of course, he had felt Dean up and they'd jacked off together so this wasn't that much further. And he was sitting here staring at Dean's dick practically like he'd never seen it before. This would be a good way, a good excuse to touch Dean without it being sexual and he could see if maybe he liked it so that when Dean was finally up to making out again, he would have an inkling if he could give Dean this.

"I'll try," Sam finally said. After rinsing the rinse cloth out good he wrapped in around the base of Dean's cock. "Gotta keep the soap out of your hair or we'll never get it out without you in the shower or something."

He soaped up his hands and then nervously gently took Dean's dick in his hand and began sliding his hand along the half-hard shaft, circling around the base and going up and down the shaft a few times before running his hands around Dean's crown and across the slit. It was so weird to feel something so familiar yet different, and to be touching that unique feel of flesh and not have the sensation be on his own cock. His own cock was practically pulsing with excitement though and aching to be touched.

* * *

Sam was staring so long and hard at his dick, Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing and saying something to the younger boy like, _it’s not going to bite you, you know._ Maybe he really was fucked up in the head, or maybe it was the pain killers he was on, but damn if he didn’t get harder just from Sam staring at him even though the younger boy wasn’t doing anything… yet.

In fact, when Sam finally said he would do it, Dean was more than a bit surprised. He’d been half teasing the younger boy… ok, so he really wanted Sam to do it, but he didn’t expect him to. Not really. But the fact that Sam was going to… yeah… that got him hot. He wasn’t even ashamed to admit it.

Though his lips did twitch a little in an amused grin when Sam rinsed out the rag and wrapped it around him. It looked pretty ridiculous but he supposed Sam had a point. Leave it up to Sam to think _logically_ about how best to wash another guy’s dick.

But when Sam’s warm soap slick fingers curled around him, Dean was done being amused. Sam looked so damned nervous part of him wanted to feel bad about that, a pretty small part, because most of him was just too thrilled that Sam was actually touching him and how good it felt. Hell, it wasn’t even a hand job. It was about as clinical as one guy washing another guy’s cock could get, but it felt great all the same. If only because it was Sam’s fingers moving slowly up and down the length of his hardening shaft, then around his head. The almost intense look on the younger boy’s face as he worked…

Dean let his head fall back with a small groan, biting his lip to keep louder sounds from slipping free, and trying to keep still. The last thing he needed was to buck up into Sam’s touch and pull out some stitches or something…

* * *

Sam could feel Dean getting harder, could see it. And damn if that didn't just make him harder. From the way Dean's head fell back, there was no doubt Dean was enjoying this and, hell, Sam wasn't really even doing anything. With those stitches in Dean's side, Dean just couldn't get excited like this. He'd end up hurting himself and Sam would be damned if Dean would suffer any more pain because of him. He was surprised at how reluctant he was to stop. He wanted to see how hard he could get Dean, he wanted to hear Dean groan louder…God help him, he wanted to make Dean come. This was just so fucked up.

Sam released Dean's dick and used the rinse cloth to clean away the suds, then quickly wiped down Dean's groin, trying really hard not to give Dean anymore stimulation. He didn't want to tease the guy. He patted Dean down but saw the disappointment in the senior's green eyes.

"Don't give me that look. When you don't have stitches in your side…maybe I'll give you another sponge bath. You know I'm right. The pleasure isn't worth the risk. And I don't want to explain to Bobby you ripped out stitches because I gave you a-a-a hand job." Sam couldn't help the blush. "Now lets get you in fresh underwear then I'm going to go get a shower."

He didn't add that he was going to have to jack off because Dean had gotten him hard and hadn't even done anything but lay there.

* * *

Sam’s soap slick fingers left him, making him groan in complaint, and it actually took Dean a few moments to realize that the feeling of the warm rag and then towel meant that the younger boy was… done. What? What the hell? Dean’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Sam first in disbelief warring with disappointment. After all that… just when it was starting to get good… Sam couldn’t possibly be serious about leaving him hanging like this.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Slipped from him before he could help himself, maybe thinking it was some kind of joke, the other boy was just teasing him… but apparently Sam was very serious.

“Oh, come on, Sam…” Ok, so he was whining… and pouting. Sue him. Yeah, he understood Sam’s concern about him ripping some stitches. That was the last thing Dean wanted too… ok, actually the last thing he wanted was for Sam to stop, but it was definitely the second to last thing. But he could stay still, damn it. Even Sam’s promise to maybe give him another sponge bath after the stitches came out didn’t make him feel any better. He wasn’t going to be getting the stitches out for two fucking weeks at least!

“You know I’m just going to finish myself off anyway when you go.” Dean huffed like a petulant child. 

* * *

Sam glared at Dean. Well, shit. He was serious. He was going to jack himself off if Sam didn't. Bad enough he was going to be moving and thrusting, but then the extra movement of his hand….crap.

Dean's cock was still pretty much standing at attention, wanting attention. Sam looked indecisively between Dean and his pouting look, and the thick, stiff member. It was Sam's turn to huff. "All right. Just-just get yourself situated so you hopefully won't strain yourself. And I swear if you rip any stitches I'm gonna tell Bobby exactly how and embarrass the shit out of you."

Sam soaped up his hand again, hardly believing he was going to do what he was getting ready to do. Hadn't he just told Dean a few days before that he wasn't ready for this? Yet here he was. He knew he could say 'no way' and Dean would forgive him, or he could tell himself he was doing it because he felt guilty Dean was hurt because of him, and he was, but…he kinda wanted to do it.

He let Dean get situated, not offering a lick of help. Dean was the idiot who wanted this when he was hurt like he was. He wanted to make sure Dean wanted it that badly. Apparently he did.

Once Dean settled in, Sam licked his lips. He could do this. He slowly wrapped his hand around Dean's cock, curling each finger around individually. He slowly began sliding his soap-slicked hand up and down Dean's shaft, almost amazed at how velvety it felt, how soft and yet so hard as the skin stretched taut. He toyed with Dean's cock, running his fingers around the edge of Dean's crown, running his palm over the tip, swiping his thumb across the slit and then stroking up and down again, each new sound Dean made sending little shivers through him.

* * *

This had to be the weirdest way ever to get a hand job, and if he stopped to think about it Dean knew he should probably guilty for being so damned manipulative. But when Sam changed his mind and decided to finish him off anyway he definitely wasn’t feeling guilty, even if the younger boy seemed a little bit pissed off about the whole thing. Ok, maybe he was feeling a _little_ bit guilty, but he was feeling a lot more horny than guilty right now.

Dean only smirked when Sam threatened to tell Bobby what they’d been doing if he ripped out any stitches. He was pretty sure it was an empty threat. Since Sam could barely say hand job without stuttering even when his Dean’s dick was staring him right in the face. Not that it wouldn’t be embarrassing as hell if he did tell Bobby… the little shit probably would no matter how much it embarrassed himself in the process.

So Dean nodded and got ‘situated’ as best he could. Since his ‘bath’ was pretty much over anyway he figured laying down flat on the couch would be the best position so he wouldn’t be putting any strain on his side from sitting up.

Lying down, without Sam’s help, definitely wasn’t pleasant but he managed. Even if his erection did wilt a little from the pain it wasn’t by much and as soon as he saw Sam slicking up his fingers again with soap it started to harden again immediately anyway.

Then Sam’s fingers were curling around his thickening flesh once more and this time there was nothing clinical about it. Sam was getting him off and just knowing that was enough to make the slow strokes along his dick feel even better. But as much as he wanted to thrust into the slick channel created by Sam’s hand, he didn’t. His thigh muscles flexing a little with the urge to move but he remained still. Small moans of pleasure beginning to spill from his lips once more he didn’t even try to contain.

Licking his lips Dean let his hooded gaze travel down the length of Sam’s body to the obvious bulge in the younger boy’s pants. Knowing that Sam was getting off on this just as much as he was making it even better and he let one of his hands reach down to cup Sam’s hardness. Squeezing and stroking the younger boy through his pants. 

* * *

Sam was so focused on Dean's cock, on trying to make it good for Dean, of listening to his groans of pleasure, he didn't notice the older youth's hand reach for his own groin. It took a moment to register the feeling of Dean's hand cupping him, but when Dean squeezed and stroked him, Sam gasped and jerked, squeezing Dean's dick in the process. He practically doubled over from the unexpected stimulation and found his cheek pressed against Dean's abdomen, his eyes staring at Dean's cock so close to him he knew Dean had to feel his breath on his tip.

"Jesus, Dean," Sam said. "Warn a guy. I damn near came in my pants." He sat up but couldn't dredge up a glare for Dean. Instead he gave a smile and shook his head. "You are a bad influence on me."

Sam shifted a little so Dean could reach him more easily and began to stroke Dean again, feeling a little more confident what with the adrenalin surging through him. He remembered Dean jacking himself off and tried to emulate the things he had seen Dean do to himself. Except for the finger up his ass. He was not ready for that.

* * *

Dean wasn’t expecting the younger boy to practically jump out of his skin when he squeezed his cock. He certainly wasn’t expecting Sam to squeeze his dick so tightly it was just on the edge of pain either. Dean practically yelped and he couldn’t have stopped his hips from bucking if he tried. The sharp pain in his side reminding him of just how stupid that was, and leaving him gasping a little.

Shit, that hurt. But at the same time he couldn’t deny where Sam had ended up, with his head practically in his lap, his warm breath caressing his cock. Ok… that felt good… Christ this was so fucked up.

Dean snorted in spite of himself at Sam’s words.

“Warn a guy before you strangle his cock.” He retorted back, but he couldn’t help grinning back at the younger boy. Especially when Sam shifted closer so he could reach him better, and when the younger boy’s hand began moving along his dick again, Dean started stroking Sam through his pants again. Tracing the outline of his hard cock, up and down its length, and when that wasn’t enough, he flicked open the button of Sam’s pants and eased his zipper down carefully.

Slipping his hand into the younger boy’s underwear to stroke Sam’s bare flesh, oh yeah, that was much better. 

* * *

Sam groaned when Dean began caressing him again. That felt so good, the light touches along his cock. His dick was already pulsing with excitement and Dean's touch made it that much better or worse, he wasn't sure. He was having trouble focusing on Dean's cock, made all the more difficult when Dean undid his pants.

He captured his lower lip between his teeth and groaned when he felt the senior's hand touch him. He understood why Dean wanted Sam to touch him. And it wasn't as hard…or wrong feeling…as he thought it was going to be. He jacked off a lot, like any teenage boy with raging hormones, and this was just kind of like that except it wasn't.

Dean matched his pace of strokes and that was just too too cool. Stroking someone else but it was like he was stroking himself. The sounds he was making mirrored Dean's and he could hardly tell where his started and Dean's ended. He couldn't help it when his hips started moving. Every move he made made him stroke Dean almost in counterpoint. It was almost like a weird dance. His gaze went to Dean's face and bracing himself with one hand, leaned in and began kissing him.

* * *

Dean smiled watching Sam’s expression and seeing the pleasure washing over the younger boy’s face as Dean stroked him. Listening to the other boy’s growing moans and knowing that Sam was getting off so much on him touching his cock just made the feeling of the younger boy’s hand on him even better.

He kept his strokes in pace with Sam’s. Playing his fingers around the younger boy’s crown or flicking his thumb over the sensitive slit whenever Sam did it to him. He felt it when Sam started to move, to thrust into his palm wrapped around his dick and Dean was kind of disappointed that he couldn’t do the same. That he had to remain still even though it was getting more and more difficult to the closer he came to release.

Dean moaned softly when the younger boy leaned in to kiss him, pushing his tongue past those sweet lips and tangling his tongue with him as he stroked Sam faster. Dean was really fucking close by this point. His free hand coming up to cup the back of the younger boy’s head, gently stroking Sam’s hair as he kissed him breathless.

One final deep groan lost in Sam’s mouth as his muscles tensed to keep from bucking as he came all over his stomach. 

* * *

Yeah, that was wanted he wanted, feeling their tongues tangle, feeling the heat of Dean's body soak into him even though they weren't actually touching. As Dean stroked him faster his hips pistoned faster, his groans grew in volume. This was just fucking amazing. He wanted more but he didn't know what 'more' it was that h wanted. Dean's hand at the back of his neck, keeping their lips locked as Sam tried to split his attention between jacking Dean off, shoving his dripping cock in the hot warm channel Dean's hand made for him, their tongues wrestling as his breath seemed to begin to run out and he felt a little light headed.

Dean's final groan and the tension he felt under him, followed when the warm liquid coating his hand pushed him over the edge and he groaned back into Dean's mouth, practically shouting with pleasure as his own come shot forth, splashing Dean's side and stomach and the couch. He continued stroking Dean until he felt the hard member grow slowly softer. He finally broke their kiss, gasping for air as his own hips finally stilled.

"God," Sam whispered. "You're amazing." He ran his hand over Dean's stomach, mixing their come together is swirls. He brought his hand up to the older youth's mouth, remembering how much Dean seemed to like it. After a moment of hesitation he licked the back of his own hand. It…wasn't what he expected. It tasted…okay. Salty sweet kind of. He looked at Dean and grinned. "I think I still like strawberries better."

* * *

There was no doubt about it. Feeling Sam come all over his hand and stomach mere seconds after he’d released was hot as hell, and Dean moaned again into the younger boy’s mouth. Feeling a little light headed and he wasn’t sure if that was due to lack of air as their tongues continued to tangle together or the concussion.

Maybe a little of both, But Dean didn’t really care about that right now. He only cared about the warm shivers of pleasure that continued to ripple through him as Sam’s fingers continued to work his cock until he finally grew soft in the younger boy’s grip. Dean doing the same from Sam, and he smiled up at the younger boy when Sam finally broke their kiss gasping. Dean wasn’t much better off, breathing heavily even as he grinned smugly up at the other boy.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Dean replied with a small chuckle and sigh feeling Sam’s fingers sliding up the slick skin of his stomach, playing around in their mingled seed, and damn if that wasn’t dirty and hot at the same time. When Sam brought his wet fingers up to his mouth, Dean didn’t hesitate taking two of the younger boy’s fingers into his mouth. Moaning softly around them as he sucked them clean, playing his tongue around Sam’s fingers like he would the other boy’s cock.

When Sam took a swipe of their mingled seed from his own hand, Dean groaned again as he finally released them with an audible pop and laugh.

“I’ll take your cock over strawberries any day.”

* * *

"You're weird," Sam said laughing. He washed his hands with soap and dipped them in the chill water. He gave Dean a momentary evil look then grinned. "Nah. You earned warm water. I'll be right back."

Sam carried the towels and trashcan back to the bathroom, dumped the water and quickly refilled it with hot water, then rinsed out the soap and rinse rags and hurried back out to Dean. He looked at the mess on Dean's stomach.

"We did real good keeping your bandage dry until I…erm, fountained." Sam said, managing for once not to blush. He wiped up the mess they'd made with a shake of his head. "I'm not sure who made more of a mess this time."

After patting Dean's stomach dry, he leaned down and kissed it. He wiped up the little that had gotten on the couch and then wiped Dean's hand clean. Producing a clean pair of briefs he helped Dean get into them then retrieved fresh bandages. With the most gentle of hands he tenderly loosened the bandage, wincing when he saw the stitches. He carefully wiped around the outer edges, then rebandaged the wound. Pulling the blanket over Dean he leaned in and kissed him. "I'm gonna get my shower. You get some more sleep. Take your ibuprofen first." He opened the bottle and handed Dean the pill and water.

He ran his fingers through Dean's hair once before carrying everything back to the bathroom and starting the shower.

* * *

Dean only snorted softly when Sam called him weird. Well, he’d certainly been called worse. Though he raised an eyebrow in confusion at the slightly mischievous look that the younger boy gave him until Sam said that he’d ‘earned’ warm water, and Dean laughed. Looking down at his stomach he made a slight face, damn, he really was a mess. Damn, he hoped they could get it cleaned up before Bobby came back. This was definitely not a way he wanted the older hunter to ever see him.

When Sam returned with the promised warm water, Dean couldn’t help but remember the first time he’d jacked the younger boy off in his basement. The mess Sam had made all over himself, not to mention when Dean had shot all over the younger boy’s stomach too. So much he couldn’t even move without risking getting it on the pool table. Well, turn about was fair play, he supposed.

“Yeah.” Dean laughed softly, looking down at his bandages. Those were definitely going to need to be changed as well. Dean almost reached for the rag to wipe himself down when he realized that Sam was actually going to do it and he merely smiled and laid there, letting the younger boy wipe him down.

When Sam kissed his stomach, Dean felt a warm flutter as he affectionately ran his clean hand through the younger boy’s hair again. Once he was finally clean, lifting his hips as much as he could without discomfort to help Sam get him all situated again.

By the time Sam was finished changing out the bandage on his side, Dean did feel the need for sleep tugging at him again so he didn’t argue. He’d really strained himself more than he should have, first getting up and then the shared hand job. He was going to have to take it easier if he wanted a chance in hell of being up to going to school tomorrow. Not that he regretted it, not one damned bit.

Dean took the pill Sam gave him and set the glass back down on the coffee table when he was finished. He smiled briefly at the younger boy and the light touch through his hair before he closed his eyes, feeling himself drifting off even before the sound of the shower kicked on. 


	9. Chapter 9

Bobby didn't make it back until almost ten-thirty. Sam had kept himself busy with making notes about werewolves, but had to search out more books because he ran out of book he could read that had stuff in it. Dean stayed asleep which Sam figured was for the best. He knew Dean didn't want to admit it, but he really doubted the senior would be up to going to school the next day.  


  
When Bobby did get in and didn't come in right away, Sam got curious and went outside. He found Bobby with two new doors and a fender for the Impala, perfect ink-black in color to match the car. Once those were replaced, there wouldn't be any indication of the accident.

"Help me get these doors down. There heavier than a bitch," he told Sam. They carefully moved the doors from the flat bed and set them down near the Impala.

"No one will know," Sam said, "that the car was hit."

"Yup. That's the point. Dean ain't gonna have the time or strength to get the car in shape by tomorrow and just pounding it out some, I can't let my boy go to that school like that. I'm gonna need your help. We'll use the portable winch to hold the door while we take it off and put the new one back on. I can handle the front fender but having a gopher for tools would be a big help."

"Anything," Sam said bobbing his head. He didn't know if Dean was going to be pleased the car was fixed, or unhappy that they screwed with his car. Well, he could fix the damaged doors and put them back on.

"After we get the car fixed, we need to get those two engines in the garage over there."

Sam looked questioningly at Bobby.

"Two doors and a fender for a 67 Impala, painted to match, and with a matching interior, don't come cheap. Dean's rebuilding those two engines in exchange for the doors and fender, he just don't know it yet. How's he doing?"

"Ate breakfast then went back to sleep after taking his painkillers. He's been sleeping for almost two hours."

"Okay. With both of us working this, it shouldn't take long to change out the doors and fender. C'mon kid, let's get the tools and get cracking on this thing."

And Sam and Bobby got to work. In two hours they had the new doors on and the fender in place and got the engines off the flatbed and in the garage along with the damaged doors and fender. They headed inside for lunch and Sam had to admit, he was darn near ravenous.

* * *

_The medication knocked him out pretty damned good and he slept deeply for a long time. Then the dreams started. He still had them, every once in a while, though not nearly as frequently as when he was a boy since he’d come to live with Bobby. But now the images were so clear and sharp it was like he was actually there, three years old all over again, watching it happen…_

_The scream had woken him._

_His mommy and daddy had put him to bed hours ago and it was pitch black in his room, the little nightlight by his bed gone out. The darkness in the room was so complete and chilling he shivered in bed as he pulled his blankets up to his neck. A part of him wanting to cry out for his mommy and daddy in fear, knowing they would come running and keep him safe, but another part of him too afraid to make a sound._

_He’d thought it was a bad dream. The scream that had woke him up. But then he heard his daddy running up the stairs, calling his mommy’s name in a tone of voice he didn’t think he’d ever heard from his daddy before and it only made Dean more afraid. But his fear for his mommy and for Sammy was greater than his fear of the darkness so shoring up his courage he climbed out of his bed and he rushed to his baby brother’s bedroom, his old bedroom, where he heard his daddy…_

_But what little courage his had drained out of him standing there in the doorway. Watching as his mommy… a huge growing stain of red on her nightgown bleeding down from the ceiling… before she burst into flames. His daddy was screaming. Sammy was crying in fear. Dean was frozen… and that’s when he saw the man. In the corner of the nursery, through the smoke and flames, laughing. Yellow eyes staring at him…_

_Then his daddy was there, his big strong daddy who could protect him, them, from anything looking terrified as he put Sammy into his arms. Ordering him to run… and he ran. He ran through the black choking smoke. He ran outside into the night air that should have been freezing through his thin pajamas but instead felt like summer from the heat of the flames coming from his house. When he stopped running he turned and waited. Watching the flames consuming his house, watching and waiting for his mommy and daddy to come out._

_But the only one who came out of the flames was the yellow eyed man. Still laughing. His baby brother started crying louder as the yellow eyed man came for them. Dean tried to run again but he couldn’t move. As the yellow eyed man reached for them, to take Sam away from him, he screamed… and screamed…_

* * *

They both heard the scream when they were at the back door. Sam was startled when Bobby shot by him, moving faster than he expected the older man to be able to move. The man was in the house and living room before Sam had really had a chance to process it and react.

Bobby was kneeling next to Dean, had gathered the young man in his arms and was just holding him, running one hand over Dean's hair, whispering soothing words that Dean was safe, would always be safe, that he had a home here as long as he wanted it, that he was safe from …yellow eyes.

Sam's eyes widened. At lunch yesterday he had told Dean about his own nightmares about the yellow eyes he saw. He remembered how Dean had reacted, blanching at the mention of yellow eyes and had agreed with him it was some monster movie. They both had dreams of yellow eyes? Dreams that woke them up screaming? He could tell Dean was sobbing in Bobby's arms and discreetly back-pedaled to the kitchen. Sam sure as hell wouldn't want Dean seeing his mom hold him after one of his nightmares, crying like a baby. So Sam busied himself in the kitchen. After looking through what was available he decided porcupine balls would be good to make. They would be good and filling and they were easy enough. So he pulled out the fresh hamburger, cut up onions and put them in with the burger, poured in rice and salt and pepper, and rolled them into little balls that he put into a hot skillet. He turned the meatballs, their sizzle pretty much blocking out the noise in the other room. He got out the ketchup the tomato soup and as soon as the meatballs were browned, he drained off the grease and added the soup, water and ketchup, then got out plates. The meal would take a good twenty minutes or so to cook.

* * *

At first Dean was too panicked to register the various pains throughout his body warning him against thrashing around like he had been as he struggled to wake up. Struggling against the yellow eyed ‘man’ that had been trying to take him, take Sammy, away from him… it had already taken his mother and father, he wasn’t going to let it take Sam too damn it!

But then there were warm arms surrounding him, protecting arms, and a comforting, reassuring, voice whispering to him over and over. At first he thought it was his daddy’s voice and his daddy’s arms around him, protecting him, keeping him and his brother safe… He was safe. They were safe. Safe… the yellow eyed demon wouldn’t get him… wouldn’t take Sammy away…

Yet Sammy was gone… Gone forever… Just like his dad and his mom. Memories flooded back and pain came with them. Pain so intense he couldn’t have stopped the tears that poured from his eyes or the sobs that practically shook his whole body. He never could.

It wasn’t his father’s arms wrapped around him while he cried, promising safety… It was Bobby. The man that meant just as much to him, maybe even more so, than his long dead father. The older man’s efforts eventually calmed him enough that Dean managed to stifle the worst of his sobs to small hiccups.

“Sorry…” He finally mumbled, even though he knew he had no reason to apologize or feel embarrassed. Still waking up from nightmares screaming and crying and needing Bobby to hug him seemed a lot less embarrassing when he’d been twelve instead of nineteen.

Dean sniffled and then groaned softly. Oh fuck, he hurt. Could he have chosen a worse fucking time to have one of those god damned nightmares? 

* * *

"Nothing to be sorry about," Bobby said. "Something scares everyone. I got my fears, son. Living through what you lived through, losing your family at such a young age, then being tossed about, it's a miracle you don't have 'em every night of your life. Not like you can talk to some psychologist saying a demon killed your family and expect to get any help. You can only do the best that you can do dealing with it. Sometimes…sometimes that means nightmares and tears." Bobby squeezed his shoulder. "I ain't never told you, though I know you've seen her picture and wondered. I was married a long time ago. She got possessed. All I knew back then was that she went crazy. Killed people. Tried to kill me. I…lost her. Had to defend myself. Sometimes, son, I still see her blood on my hands, and sometimes I still see her dying, that black smoke pouring out of her. And sometimes I still wake up, and my pillow ain't dry. She's the reason I do what I do. She's also the reason sometimes folk look at me askance. I was cleared of any wrong doing. Self-defense. She weren't. She's still guilty in the records. She was the sweetest damned woman this side of Heaven and 't'weren't her that killed them people, but no one but hunters would ever believe that. And that kills my soul too. So don't you be fretting about bad dreams and tears."

Bobby handed him a tissue, then smoothed down his sleep-spiked hair. "You can take another vicodin, but it's another three or four hours 'fore you can take the ibuprofen."

Twisting, Bobby picked up the bottle of vicodin and pulled one out and handed it to Dean with a glass of water. He set the water back down. "Let me make sure you didn't pull none a your stitches."

Bobby gently peeled back the bandages. "Nope, they look good," he said and gently pressed the bandage back into place. "Your boy and I, we got your car back up and running.

"I called the principal. You ain't going to school the rest of the week." Bobby gave him a glare. "Shaddup and listen to me. You are gonna drop Sam off and walk him to home room like always. You're gonna arrive late enough, they all see you. Your 'cousin,' Jeff, he's 'transferring' to that school. He's gonna take over guard duty of Sam for the next two days. You ain't met Jeff, but he'll be here in the morning to meet you and then meet up with you at school when you get in with Sam. Jeff's twenty, though he looks like he's a bit younger. He'll be in all of Sam's classes. He's been raised in a hunter family. That boy can kick butt like no one's business and knows the deal. Then Friday, his family and me are gonna go after than werewolf. You met Jeff's dad, Tim on that wendigo hunt. As far as anyone at the school knows, you and me had to go out of town. Jeff'll bring Sam here tomorrow, then pick him up on Friday in the morning, and bring him here Friday afternoon. You're gonna rest so's you can go back to school Monday. We're gonna keep you off that ankle, keep it iced and soaked. This'll give you enough time to heal up that you can look after Sam proper next week and not be tearing out your stitches or have to worry about that concussion. We both know Lancaster is gonna push you tomorrow, looking for you to be injured. If he figures out how bad yer hurt, him and his boys will do their damnedest to take you down and take Sam down too. They clip you in your side, trip you onto that sprained ankle, or clip you upside the head, I know you could probably muscle through the pain for Sammy, but they'll be at you for the next three weeks and know your weaknesses. We can't afford that. Not you, not Sam. So, you willing to rest up proper so you can go back to looking after Sam on Monday?"

* * *

Dean knew Bobby was right. The older man usually was right, sometimes to Dean’s great annoyance. But that didn’t make it any easier. Bobby knew that too, though. The older hunter had been the only one to truly understand him, what he’d gone through, had believed him when no one else did… Dean almost snorted when the older man mentioned how he couldn’t talk to a shrink about his issues.

For a time they’d tried to get him and his brother and he adopted together to the same family. Of course everyone loved baby Sammy, but he was too much trouble. Dean could remember well the drugs they’d put him on as a boy to try to ‘cure’ his ‘delusions’ and how they locked him away whenever he started ranting on about demons and his mother burning to death on the ceiling.  
Until they’d finally deemed him ‘unsafe’ around his own baby brother anymore and had taken Sammy away for good.

Of course he’d tried to find his brother later on, but the records had been lost, ironically, in a fire. Sammy was gone… lost to him just like his parents had been lost. To flames…

When Bobby mentioned his wife, Dean couldn’t deny he was a little surprised. He had always been curious about what had happened to her, but of course he’d never asked. He could see clearly enough the pain in Bobby’s eyes every time he gazed at her picture and the only two nights of the year he always found Bobby passed out drunk. One he’d guessed was the older man’s anniversary, the other… her death…

But he’d never known she’d been possessed. Dean swallowed hard against the lump of emotion that welled in his throat listening to what had happened to her. Yeah, he knew every hunter had a similar story. They all had a reason why they’d gotten into this ‘business’ but still… it wasn’t fair, damn it. It just wasn’t fair…

Dean took the tissue Bobby offered him, wiping off his face, and gladly took the painkiller the older man offered him afterwards. As much as his side hurt right now he was actually a bit surprised he hadn’t ripped out any stitches, though he was glad he didn’t. The last thing he wanted right now was to have Bobby have to redo them.

When Bobby mentioned that he and ‘his boy’ had taken care of his car, Dean couldn’t help the faint smile that curved his lips. His boy, huh? He kind of liked the sound of that. Of course his smile vanished when Bobby went on to say how he wasn’t going to school tomorrow. Dean opened his mouth to protest immediately but Bobby silenced him.

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one god damned fucking bit… but annoyingly… Bobby was right again. AS much as he hated to admit it Dean was in no shape to protect Sam tomorrow. He wouldn’t even be able to protect himself and one good hit to his wounded side or to his head… Still he wouldn’t have cared if the choice was between Eric targeting him or the bastard going after Sam. He would rather the asshole come after him instead.

He didn't like it. Dean definitely didn't like not being able to back Bobby up on the hunt and he didn’t like the idea of trusting someone else to look after Sam either. But he'd rather other hunters back Bobby up rather than the older man going on a hunt alone. And if it was another hunter looking after Sam… well… he liked that idea better than Sam going alone. That was for damned sure.

“Fine.” Dean finally muttered, even though he knew he sounded far from pleased. 

* * *

"I know you ain't happy 'bout this, son, but it's the best that we can do. Jeff might hang around yet next week or two, to keep up the appearance he really was transferred then his family suddenly got called away or something. Can't having the Lancaster shit get suspicious." Bobby climbed to his feet with a grunt. "I'm gonna check on Sammy and see what he's cooking us up for dinner. Don't smell like roast chicken but really, that was for dinner anyhow."

Bobby patted Dean's shoulder. "You think you can go back to sleep, you go right ahead. You want to stay awake, then as soon as lunch is ready, we'll get you fed." Bobby put the TV remote next to Dean. "I gotta tell Sam the plan yet, too. Now you be sure and look more confident about when he comes in to talk to you than you look now. The kid is bound to be scared about it. Convince him it's good. Tim's told me Jeff's taken down four vampires single handed and if he's as good a fighter as his daddy, Sam don't have a thing to worry about. Trust me on that. Tim can kick my butt with one hand tied behind his back and blindfolded. The sonuvabitch."

Bobby headed out to the kitchen to find Sam busily cooking away. Sam gave him a worried glance. "He okay?"

"He's fine. Just had a bad dream."

"About yellow eyes," Sam said coolly, wanting to see Bobby's reaction.

Bobby's head snapped up. "What do you know about yellow-eyes?"

"You tell me what you know, and I'll tell you what I know," Sam said.

Bobby's eyes narrowed. "Your momma a hunter?"

"The subject is yellow eyes," Sam said.

"Yellow eyes is a demon," Bobby finally answered.

Sam turned around and stirred their lunch. "Azazel," Sam said, the word popping into his head and having no idea what the word even meant.

"What else you know?" Bobby asked.

Sam glanced over his shoulder and gave him a long look. "One for one. Your turn."

Bobby met his gaze and couldn't tell from Sam's calm demeanor if he was being bamboozled or not and that bothered him. Sam's mom had what was undoubtedly a hunter's bow. From the books they had seen laying about, if Sam came from a hunter's family, he had to know Bobby was a hunter. But Sam couldn't fight, had seemed intrigued by his books, but not knowledgeable. Course if his mom had hung up her bow, Sam might only know stories. From his conversations with the boy, he just couldn't believe Sam knew anything more but he was shocked he knew a demon's name. And if it was yellow-eye's name, it was a helluva lot more than they knew a few minutes ago and gave him a place to do more digging.

"The demon is said to have taken out a couple families through the years," Bobby said, keeping his answer vague.

Sam turned back to stare into the bubbling tomato soup and meatballs. Bobby thought demons were real? …Well, angels were real. He believed that. So why not demons? All sorts of lore about demon possessions. "With fire," Sam said softly.

_A blonde woman's face, fuzzy, but Sam always thought she was probably pretty. That blurred image always made him feel safe. Darkness, though a little dim light was there somewhere. Then a shape and yellow eyes. Then heat and orange light and screams and noises, and no image was clear. Except for the yellow eyes. Fear. Terrible fear. An upset voice screaming and he didn't know what was being screamed, but he always thought it was his name. Sammy._

"Yeah. With fire," Bobby agreed. "Have you seen him? Azazel?" Bobby asked quietly.

Sam shook his head wordlessly. "Never seen a demon. Never seen an angel. Never seen…a werewolf." Sam hesitated, knowing the question might lose the edge he had at the moment but he had to ask. "Are werewolves real?"

Bobby folded his arms across his chest. "Guess you ought a be asking your momma about that. You know anything else about the demon?"

"No. Just…Azazel. And fire. Did Dean see the demon?"

"I think he did."

God, were the two men really nuts? Was he nuts for kind of sort of…believing them?

Sam gave a single nod. "Lunch'll be ready in about ten minutes. Rice isn't quite cooked yet."

"I'll get everything out for it. Why don't you go check on Dean?"

"Keep it stirred or it'll burn," Sam said, not looking at Bobby and heading in to see how Dean was doing. _Azazel…._  


* * *

No, he wasn’t happy. But Bobby was right. Again. This was the only reasonable option they had… well… beyond Sam just staying here and not going to school at all but the younger boy’s parents would never go for that. It was a miracle they’d let Sam stay here at all today. Hell, after what had happened in the parking lot it was probably an even bigger miracle they hadn’t forbid Sam to ever see him again.

Dean couldn’t help but wonder what Sam would do if his parents ever did say that he could never see him again. If they ever decided he was too much of a bad influence, not worth keeping him around even if he did promise to look after Sam… yeah, like Dean had been doing such a great job of it so far. They’d probably decide that Dean just made matters worse for Sam rather than better. To be honest… he couldn’t really argue with that. Surely the bad blood between him and Eric hadn’t made the situation for Sam any better.

Whatever the outcome though he had to be confident, for Sam. He had to act like he supported this plan, even if he didn’t like it and he had to reassure the younger boy that he would be safe with this Jeff looking after him.

Despite his depressed thoughts, Dean couldn’t help but smile a little when Bobby complained about the young man’s father kicking his ass. Dean couldn’t deny anyone who could kick Bobby’s ass was definitely someone you could trust watching your back. It made Dean feel a little better, for both Bobby on the hunt as well as Sam at school. He might not _like_ being stuck here on this damned couch while Eric was gunning for Sam and Bobby was off in the woods chasing werewolves without him… but at least neither of them would be without backup.

Dean took the remote from Bobby with a nod of thanks. The last thing Dean wanted right now was to go back to sleep and risk falling back into that dream, no matter how exhausted he felt. Damn. It was probably too much to hope that Sam hadn’t seen any of that. He cursed softly under his breath as he flicked on the TV and started flipping aimlessly through the channels.

He had to admit, even though he was feeling a bit queasy right now from nearly pilling out some stitches for the second time today whatever Sam was cooking smelled pretty good.

When he heard the telltale creek of the floor board just outside the living room Dean turned his head to look at Sam standing in the doorway. Dean knew he probably looked as much like shit as he felt, but he tried to give the younger boy a smile that at least looked genuine. 

* * *

"You look like hell," Sam said as he walked in and sat down in the chair next to the couch. He looked at the TV. "Oprah? Really?"

Dean looked like he just wanted to go to sleep. Moving down to the floor, Sam took his hand and leaned against the beat up couch. "I'll stay with you if you wanna sleep. If Mom stays with me after one of my nightmares, if I manage to go back to sleep, they usually don't come back. Or we could play cards or something."

In the kitchen Bobby suddenly realized he had completely forgotten to tell Sam about Jeff. The whole demon thing had gotten him off track.

"Dean, explain to him about Jeff. I didn't," Bobby called in.

Sam looked toward the kitchen then at Dean. "Jeff? You already tired of me and trading me in for a better looking model?" Sam asked teasingly, but the thought of that even remotely being true made his stomach sort of knot up.

* * *

“Thanks.” Dean snorted softly in amusement at Sam’s frank comment. Actually, he considered it kind of a compliment that he ‘only’ looked like hell when he kind of felt like hammered shit. At Sam’s glance at the TV and question, Dean couldn’t help but look himself. He hadn’t even realized that was the channel it had landed on when he’d been flipping through channels before Sam’s entrance had distracted him. Rather than offering an explanation though, Dean merely shrugged a little and then immediately regretted the movement.

When Sam moved from the chair to down on the floor beside the couch, Dean couldn’t help but smile a little more genuinely. His smile growing only more fond if it was possible when the younger boy took hold of his hand. Yeah it was pretty girly, but Dean didn’t much care right now.

Sam’s offer to stay with him while he fell asleep pretty much shattered that little hope that Sam hadn’t noticed his little panic attack caused by a bad dream. But at least the younger boy was being kind enough not to call him a wuss or anything because of it. Not that he really thought Sam would, considering the younger boy had admitted just yesterday how he had bad dreams too. But Dean wasn’t sure if he could handle any teasing right now, no matter how light hearted it might be.

“Not tired.” He replied, even though they both knew it was a lie. Then Bobby called in for him to talk to Sam about Jeff and Dean couldn’t help but frown in confusion. Just what had Sam and Bobby been talking about then? He’d heard their voices in the kitchen even though he hadn’t heard the discussion over the TV. Now he kind of wish he’d paid attention.

At Sam’s teasing question, Dean rolled his eyes a little.

“No, idgit. Jeff’s a cousin of mine. Well, not really. He’s from Bobby’s side of the family, but, you know. His family is moving back into the area and Bobby said he’s gonna be transferring to our school. Tomorrow’s his first day, in fact which is pretty good timing. Bobby’s already talked to him and the principal and Jeff’s gonna watch your back for the next week or so… since it looks like the quacks are right and I’m not going to make it in for a while. I’ll drop you off at school tomorrow and we’ll meet Jeff there. You’ll be safe with him though. I promise.” Dean told the younger boy, putting all the reassurance he could into his words.

* * *

Not tired. Sure he wasn't. But Sam knew what his dreams of yellow eyes were like and he never wanted to go back to sleep after he had one of them, so he accepted Dean's lie.

Sam didn't like that Dean wasn't going to be at school with him, but he knew Dean couldn't be. He'd been hit by a freaking car and it was selfish of Sam to wish Dean would come anyway. Eric would so take advantage of Dean's injuries if he found out what they were. In some ways it was kind of a relief, knowing that Dean would be safe. He just hoped Jeff was as good a fighter and as intimidating as Dean could be. Of course, Sam had no doubt Eric would test Jeff and that was probably going to suck, because Sam was pretty much useless in a fight and knew it.

Sam leaned in and whispered. "I hope he's better looking than Bobby," he said teasingly, but then added more seriously, "I don't have to kiss him, right? You and I, we're together even if he's watching out for me, right?"

* * *

Dean could tell that Sam wasn’t any happier with the arrangement than he was, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. It was a hell of a lot better option than Sam going to school alone and unprotected though. Maybe if Dean took it really easy for the rest of the day today and tomorrow he could at least go to school by Friday even if Bobby didn’t want him to.

Tomorrow the bastards at the school would probably try to go after Jeff, and get their asses handed back to them. So they certainly wouldn’t want to go up against both him _and_ his ‘cousin’ at the same time.

“I’m gonna tell Bobby you think he’s ugly.” Dean joked, with a laugh. Though when Sam asked him if he would have to kiss Jeff, in payment for his services, his smile slipped off. Replaced with a serious look. Dean knew Jeff wasn’t like those other assholes at the school. Dean had met his father and he seemed like an all right guy, but more than that, Bobby never would have asked for him to help out if there was even the smallest chance he would take advantage of Sam.

Still, just the idea of anyone else kissing Sam… of Sam having to whore himself in payment…

“No. You’re mine.” Dean said firmly. His free hand coming up to cup the back of the younger boy’s neck and pull Sam into a kiss. Making it quite clear without words who Dean considered Sam belonged to and anyone who said otherwise would have hell to pay. When Dean finally let the younger boy up for air he grinned up at Sam. “So you better not go around kissing anyone else.” 

* * *

"I was teasing about Bobby!" Sam protested. "Sort of." The thought of kissing Bobby…just ewww. Bobby was okay and everything, and maybe he cleaned up nice but Sam wasn't into guys in the first place (except for Dean) so he probably wasn't a fair judge. And Bobby was, like, old. "And I didn't say he was ugly."

Dean's words and the way Dean kissed him, he felt his heart kind of flutter and his stomach do little flip-flops. Was this what love felt like? It still bothered him that his first 'love' looked more and more like it was going to be a guy, but that didn't mean he wouldn't eventually meet a girl and feel the same way. But the thought of Dean not being there in his future made him unhappy. Could you really fall for someone this fast? This wasn't Hollywood. And really, he and Dean hardly knew each other. Maybe it was just hormones. Yeah. Just hormones. So why was his heart racing? His lips tingling? The kiss from Dean hadn't gotten him hard, but it has surely affected him otherwise.

"No kissing anyone else huh? What if Jeff is better looking that you?" Sam teased. "You've corrupted me. How am I supposed to resist his lips if they're even half as sexy as yours?" And Dean's look Sam giggled and whispered in his ear, "I'm yours. Idget."

* * *

Dean couldn’t help his amusement at Sam’s reply. Not sure if he was more amused by the younger boy’s rather loud protest that he’d only been teasing about Bobby or the look on Sam’s face when he did. Knowing how the younger boy’s mind worked a mile a minute he could only imagine what was going through his head… and Dean decided he really didn’t want to know. Some things really were better left unsaid.

Though he was a little less amused when Sam started teasing him back. Well, he’d better be only teasing anyway. Dean had never met the older boy so he had no idea what he looked like. What if Jeff really was better looking than him? Or if Sam decided he liked Jeff better than him…

After all, Dean knew he was no catch. He was a freak. Damaged goods, in more than one way. Sure, Sam had needed him up till now, but with Jeff around Sam wouldn’t need him. Sure, Jeff wasn’t going to be hanging around forever, but what if during that time Sam decided he really didn’t need Dean after all? After all, he hadn’t even managed to protect Sam for a few days. His first day on the ‘job’ Sam had gotten the shit kicked out of him too. Hell, Dean couldn’t even keep his promise to Sam to get the younger boy laid with a girl…

When he met Jeff tomorrow he was going to make it very clear to the other hunter he better keep his hands to himself as far as Sam was concerned.

Dean gave Sam a mild glare, though his expression relaxed with the younger boy’s whisper in his ear. Still, Dean couldn’t deny the jealousy gnawing in his gut.

“Prove it.” Dean whispered back, a note of challenge in his voice. 

* * *

Sam saw it in Dean's eyes and honestly was a little surprised. Dean _was_ jealous, just at the thought that Sam might find Jeff attractive, or he might kiss someone else. Did he make Dean's stomach all filled with butterflies? Did Dean get all tied up inside thinking about Sam? Sure Dean liked him, but was it more than just like? Considering Dean's words Sam wondered.

"Prove it huh?" Sam said. "If you weren't all stitched up and bruised and had a concussion, I would." He leaned in and ran his tongue around the inside of Dean's ear. "You really want me to get you hard and make you come with Bobby just in the other room? And you are NOT going to jack me off with Bobby in the other room either. If I kissed you the way I want to to prove it," Sam nipped his ear, "you would be hard and so would I."

Sam sat back on his knees and looked at Dean. Glancing around he saw a pocketknife on the table. He picked it up and opened it. Looking at Dean, he bit his lip but a smile played there all the same. He used the knife a cut a small nick in his palm, then took Dean's hand and did the same. He clasped their hands together, the couple drops of blood each spilled mingling. He kissed Dean then, trying for that same hot passionate kiss that Dean seemed to give to him so effortlessly, not letting Dean take the lead this time, not let Dean into his mouth, but controlling it all himself. He finally sat back and licked his lips, then put those same lips to their still clasped hands.

"We're connected now," Sam said, glancing at their hand. He grinned more broadly. "And if I can't be kissing anyone else, neither can you."  


* * *

  


Dean had to bite back a groan, not so much at the things Sam was whispering in his ear but the younger boy’s tone, not to mention the soft warm breath caressing his ear, was making certain parts of him sit up and take notice. Which wasn’t exactly a good thing since the younger boy was right, he really _didn’t_ want Sam to jerk him off with Bobby just in the other room. If there wasn’t a chance that the older hunter would walk in on them any second and embarrass the hell out of him…

A small moan of both pleasure and frustration escaped his lips when Sam’s tongue snaked out to caress his ear. Sam really was a fucking tease, and the boy knew it. Maybe Dean was really bad to for kind of wishing Bobby wasn’t here right now so that Sam _could_ prove it to him… like he wanted…

“Tease.” Dean muttered when Sam nipped at his ear, but he was grinning at the younger boy when he finally pulled back. Even though parts of Dean were missing the attention his upstairs brain reminded him he didn’t want Bobby walking in to see him with a hard on either.

When he saw Sam look around and then reach for the knife on the table, Dean raised an eyebrow in question and then actually felt his heart skip a beat (much to his embarrassment) when Sam cut their palms and then held them together. Then Sam was kissing him, and fuck, he’d taught that boy well. Sam obviously wanted to control the kiss and Dean let him.

By the time Sam finally let him up for breath, he was definitely half hard and his heart was definitely beating a little faster than normal. Dean felt like he’d just gotten married or something. Oddly enough, that thought didn’t really bother him… had to be the drugs.

He laughed though at Sam’s words.

“Deal.” Dean replied, bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing Sam’s fingers. 

* * *

Sam smiled at Dean then chuckled. "I never figured my first steady would be a guy."

He leaned in and gave Dean a quick kiss. "Lunch ought to be ready before too much longer. I made porcupine balls. Tomato soup and rice and hamburger with rice in it. It's kind of a comfort food for me. And if you don't want the meat, you can just have rice and tomato soup. It's got ketchup in it too. I hope I made it right. I usually look up the recipe when I make it." He shrugged a little then settled down on the floor, putting his back against the couch and looking at the TV. He kept hold of Dean's hand. Tilting his head back he looked at Dean. "Uh, how about something other than Oprah?"

He grabbed the remote and began flipping channels and stopped on Magnum PI. "Well, that's about as good as it gets it looks like.

That sat in silence watching the show until Bobby called from the kitchen that lunch was ready. Sam hopped up and went in to help the older man get the meal dished out and brought Dean's in with some water, then joined him. Bobby came in and checked on Dean, checking to make sure he didn't have a fever, and tracked his moving finger. Asking for Sam's notes, Bobby took them with him into the kitchen and began reading them while Dean and Sam ate their lunch.

When they finished, Sam asked Dean, "So, you wanna watch more TV or play cards or something, or get some more sleep?"

* * *

Dean snorted in amusement at Sam’s comment, even though a small part of him kind of felt like he should be freaking out a little over the whole ‘steady’ thing. But he supposed that’s what they were now… boyfriends. Yeah, that was kind of weird. Not the fact that Sam was a dude, just the fact that Dean never thought he would have a boy/girl friend. Ever. If someone had told him a couple weeks ago he’d be going ‘steady’ with anyone, much less a boy he’d just met, he would have laughed his ass off.

But he wasn’t freaking out. Surprisingly.

Then Sam started talking about what he’d made them for lunch and he had to admit it sounded… interesting. He’d never had anything like that before, but it sounded like it would be ok. It sounded better than roasted chicken at any rate.

Dean chuckled again when Sam grabbed the remote away from him but he relinquished it without a fight. Not that he could put up much of one anyway, but he didn’t really want to watch Oprah either.

“Sure.” He said instead and just sat back while he watched Sam flipping through the channels. Letting his fingers settle on the back of Sam’s neck when the younger boy leaned up against the couch, gently petting through the soft strands of hair there.

Dean was kind of disappointed when not long after Bobby said that the food was done and Sam had to get up. When Bobby returned with Sam Dean went through the older man’s check up without complaint. He was a little surprised when the older man didn’t stay in the living room to eat with them but he guessed Bobby was trying to give them privacy. Some ‘alone’ time. He appreciated that. He guessed Bobby really didn’t mind that he and Sam were together. Dean still doubted that Sam’s parents would be nearly as accepting.

Dean pushed himself up enough so that he wouldn’t make a mess on himself as he ate.

“It’s good.” Dean complimented after a few bites of his food. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to finish the whole bowl he’d been brought but his grumbling stomach was definitely happy. Sam finished first and when the younger boy asked him what he wanted to do, Dean’s grin turned mischievous. Giving the younger boy an obvious leer. “Strip poker?”

* * *

"Okay, I am officially NOT a tease when your mind is always on sex anyhow," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "If you really want to play strip poker, sure, let me just go ask Bobby if it's okay if we get naked in the living room…." Sam started to get up, laughing when Dean gave him a light tug and a warning look. "Hey, you started it. I am going to go ask Bobby where the cards are and if he can read my notes okay."

Disentangling himself from Dean he got to his feet and gathered the dirty dishes. "I'll bring you back in some ice water, too." Sam walked out to the kitchen where Bobby was hunched over his books, his radio on real low, playing jazz.

Sam set the dishes in the sink, rinsing them out. "Want anymore?" he asked Bobby.

Bobby handed up his bowl with a distracted, "Yeah, thanks, Sam."

Scooping more out for him, he handed the bowl back. There was probably one serving left that he put in a bowl and stuck in the fridge, then filled the pan to soak. After refilling Bobby's glass with ice tea, he got both he and Dean some fresh ice water.

"Everything make sense in my notes?"

Bobby glanced up then shook his head and flipped back a couple pages. "This was really in the lore?"

Sam looked at his notes. "Yeah, but see here? Were-panther, not werewolf. I didn't know if it was important or not, so I copied it down, just in case. There's more in there about were-panthers, but all of that stuff seemed shaman related and willing shapeshifting, not like werewolves, so I just noted the page if you wanted to look up more details. Those were the highlights."

Bobby re-read the notes and nodded, underlining 'were-panther' and highlighting that section. "Yeah, 'kay kid, thanks. Everything else is fine. What about the "Doxis Nocturn" book, you get anything out of that?"

Snorting, Sam said, "I haven't even got a clue what language that's in, let alone translate it. Every book I looked at is written at the top of the notes. If you don't see the title I didn't look at it, mostly because I couldn't read it."

Bobby glanced up from the scattered notes and suddenly looked a little sheepish. "Sorry Sam. You've done a good job here."

Sam smiled. "Thanks. I like research. Dean and I are going to play some strip poker. Where are the cards?"

The look of disbelief on Bobby's face as his gaze snapped to Sam had Sam practically rolling with laughter. "Oh that was soooo worth it. And I'm sure I'll be able to embarrass Dean by telling him I told you his suggestion."

Bobby gave him a dark glare, then tossed one toward the living room. "That boy," Bobby said with a shake of his head. "Tell him not to make me come in there and chaperone. There are some cards in that drawer there."

After grabbing the cards and stuffing them in his pocket, he carried their water back into the living room. "Bobby threatened to chaperone if we tried to play strip poker," Sam said, setting the waters on the table.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin at Sam’s comment, nor could he really deny that his mind was _always_ on sex. Hell, he was a teenager, wasn’t he? Sam seemed to be the only teenager in existence who’s mind _wasn’t_ always on sex.

Though when the younger boy went on to tell him he was going to go ask Bobby if they could get naked in the living room Dean’s eyes widened in surprise… surely he wouldn’t. The way Sam blushed when he even thought about something ‘naughty’ there was no way… But Sam’s face was remarkably straight and he definitely wasn’t blushing. The last thing Dean really needed right now was Bobby learning more about his sex life than he already did and he gave Sam a warning look, a look that usually had most of the kids at school messing in their drawers, but Sam was hardly intimidated. In fact the younger boy only laughed. Dean wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or pleased.

When Sam assured him that he wasn’t going to embarrass him Dean finally let the younger boy go with a slight roll of his eyes. Turning his attention back to the television though it seemed now that he was fed his body was demanding sleep once more. His eyelids trying to fall shut despite how he fought against it.

He was glad when Sam returned, giving him something else to distract him. Though his eyes widened and nearly fell out of his head at the younger boy’s words. He didn’t… god damn it he did.

“No, you’re not a tease. You’re just evil.” Dean muttered, though a small part of him almost wished he could have seen the look on Bobby’s face when Sam asked him that. Right before he melted into the floor…

* * *

Sam laughed, though he really had hoped to get a blush from Dean. Damn. He'd have to come up with something else. "I'm the evil one? Hah."

He could see how tired Dean looked and put the cards on the table. He settled back on the floor by the couch and took Dean's hand. "You go on back to sleep. I'll be right here. If you even start to twitch from a dream, I'll wake you up. Unless it looks like it’s a good dream and then maybe…" he bit his lower lip and looked a little bashful, "maybe I'll help it along." Hastily he added, "So long as Bobby isn't still sitting in the other room."

Sam flipped through the channels since Magnum was long over and found some cartoons. Better than a talk show he decided. Absently he stroked the back of Dean's hand with his thumb.

* * *

Dean would have answered, but his reply was interrupted with a large yawn. Then he watched as Sam placed the unopened deck of cards on the table rather than dealing them out… not that they’d actually settled on a game yet, but it seemed like they wouldn’t be playing after all. He wanted to protest, he really did. He wasn’t ready to go back to sleep… possibly back to the dreams he’d been having. Sure as fuzzy as his thoughts felt from tiredness (not to mention the concussion) right now he’d probably get his ass handed to him if they did play, but he’d take the small wound to his pride. He was just having such a hard time keeping his eyes open…

Damn.

But Sam was promising to wake him up if he started dreaming. Help him along if it was a good dream… Dean couldn’t help but snort softly in amusement at that. Yup, no doubt about it, he was creating a monster.

“All right.” Dean finally mumbled, relenting, not that he was really up to arguing anyway. His eyes drifted down to his hand that Sam was holding and a small smile tugged at his lips in spite of himself. When his eyes dropped shut he really hoped for those good dreams Sam was talking about.

* * *

Dean slept through most of the afternoon. Sam finally got up and stretched after about forty-five minutes. He stayed in the room with Dean so he could keep an eye on him, and bobby was well pre-occupied in the other room. He wandered around Bobby's vast library. Demons. Lots of books on demons. He picked up a few at random and began flipping through them. He decided pretty quickly he was going to have to at least start beefing up his knowledge of Latin.

He found "Azazel" listed in a few places. Fallen angel. Devout follower and friend of the angel Lucifer…the devil. Demons possessed people. Killed people. Made people do horrible things. They were chaos and carnage manifest. But why…why would demons show up in his and Dean's dreams. Why would a demon have any interest in either of them? Angels helped because you prayed for them to. Demons? Didn't seem like they went after particularly saintly people. They just did damage and evil things. Maybe angels did good things without ever being prayed for. Balance and counter-balance. Did demons hear your prayers for good things and intercede and try to make your life hell?

Sam pulled off his watch and looked at the back of it, of what his mom had inscribed in it. After glancing over at Dean, he went to Dean's side and fastened the watch onto Dean's wrist. Maybe that would help protect him from bad dreams. He stroked Dean's cheek and kissed him lightly. Strange how he had grown so attached to Dean so quickly. Dean wasn't anything like anyone he had ever known. And what a conundrum. So tough, to touchy, so tender, so kind, so protective. Sam knew it sort of made him the girl in the relationship. If Dean ever brought him flowers though, he thought he'd …well, do something evil to him for it. After running a hand over Dean's hair to smooth it a bit, he retrieved some lemonade. He was getting restless, but he didn't want to leave Dean. He had promised him he would stay. So he resettled himself in the chair beside Dean and watched TV, drifting off to sleep sometime during the second show.

* * *

Dean slept… a lot better than he’d been expecting to.

Bobby woke him up a couple of times during the afternoon to give him his medication, to check his bandages, and see how his head was doing. Though by now Dean could tell that the older man wasn’t all that worried about him slipping into a coma or anything due to the concussion. Still, they went through the motions and Dean didn’t protest… much.

The first time the older hunter had woken him Dean was a bit surprised that he didn’t immediately see Sam hovering around over his shoulder or something. A quick turn of the head showed him where the younger boy was however and Dean couldn’t help but smile a little seeing Sam curled up in the chair next to his.

After Bobby left to continue his research and to take care of the salvage yard Dean watched the younger boy sleep for a few minutes before he drifted off again. Every time Bobby woke him up Sam was still there, ‘keeping watch’ and Dean easily went back to sleep afterwards, no more bad dreams plaguing him, much to his surprise.

This time when Dean woke up it wasn’t due to Bobby but the sound of Rumsfeld barking outside. It was dark out now. He’d slept the whole afternoon. It wasn’t too hard to guess that Rumsfeld was probably barking at one of Sam’s parents, come to collect their son.

Dean couldn’t help the pang of disappointment he felt knowing that Sam would be leaving soon. Even though of course he knew the younger boy’s parents would eventually want him back.

* * *

Bobby got Sam up for dinner. It was just a frozen pizza, but that was fine by Sam. Bobby made Sam stay in the kitchen be "pizza will wake that boy up faster than smelling salts." After Sam ate, he checked on Dean, pleased Dean was sleeping soundly. His face so relaxed, Sam couldn't help but marvel at how good-looking Dean was and had to admit he was a little envious. And why Dean would chose a geek like him over some busty blond or something baffled him a little bit more. Satisfied Dean was sleeping comfortably, Sam went in and did the dishes up from lunch and breakfast. Since he knew one of his parents would be by soon he gathered his things. He kissed Dean lightly on the lips because he wasn't going to be able to kiss Dean when his mom or dad arrived. He smiled to himself at the slight smile that touched Dean's lips. He just hoped that kiss didn't give Dean a wet dream or something. He kind of hated to leave Dean, but there was also a part of him that wanted to get back to his own room, his own family.

Boyfriend. He had a boyfriend. He shook his head. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. How was he ever going to tell his parents? Would they completely freak? "Mom, Dad, me and Dean are boyfriends. Just thought you ought to know." Better than, "Hey, I'm gay, by the way. Yeah, didn't know it either until Dean came along." He'd have to feel them out on it. He had no idea of what their opinions of a same sex relationship was.

Relationship.

Shit, this was just too weird and he was going to stop thinking about it.

He was saved from anymore thoughts on it with the barking of Rumsfeld. Sam stepped out onto the porch and saw his dad's car. After waving, he stepped back inside. Bobby was working on some receipts in his little office. "If Dean's not up to it, Mom or Dad can take me or drop me somewhere where your nephew can pick me or something."

"Nephew?" Bobby said.

"Yeah, Jeff."

Bobby wanted to curse Dean. He was supposed to tell Sam more or less the truth that Jeff was a friend of the family but they were telling the school that Jeff was related. Well, if that's what Dean wanted Sam to know, that was fine. "Oh, yeah, sorry, lot on my mind. I'll call you early, but I think Dean needs to show up there so as not to raise suspicion even if just briefly. If I hafta, I'll ride along with him, but I imagine he'll be okay for the short trip. He's doing fine. Jeff's a good kid. I think you'll like him."

Sam grinned at Bobby. "I think Dean's already jealous of him."

After a moment Bobby began laughing. Dean was so taken with Sam he was jealous? He couldn't hardly believe Mr. One Night Stand had found someone…he just hoped it didn't turn out badly or Dean would never give himself over like that again. And Sam wasn't even sixteen. Probably a recipe for heartbreak, but it would be good for Dean, for however long it lasted.

Sam went in and picked up his things. He saw Dean was awake, more or less. "Hey Sleeping Beauty. S'pose to be a kiss, not a dog that wakes you up. Dad's here. I'll see you tomorrow." Leaning down, Sam gave Dean a quick kiss. Straightening, he grinned. "And see, I didn't even tease with it. Feel better. See ya."

Sam couldn't help running his hand over Dean's spiky hair to smooth it. And he thought his own was unruly. With a final fond look at Dean, he dashed for the door and down the steps, tossing a "Bye, Bobby" over his shoulder as he got in the SAAB.

 

* * *

When Sam came into the living room to pick up his bags, Dean couldn’t help feeling a sharper pang of disappointment hit him. Though he couldn’t help but smile a little at the younger boy even as he rolled his eyes a little at the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ remark.

It was just... things were supposed to be going so differently tonight. Right at this moment he was supposed to be telling Bobby he was going to take Sam home when instead he was going to go to a bar with the younger boy. He was supposed to share a few drinks with Sam and check out the crowd together, getting a feel of what kind of woman the other boy might be interested. Once he found a girl he deemed suitable for the younger boy he was supposed to turn on the charm and help Sam pick her up. The three of them were supposed to go to a hotel together and... it was supposed to be a very good night.

Instead, he was laid up on the couch with a concussion and whatnot, Sam was leaving, and Dean wouldn’t even be able to look after the other boy tomorrow at school. To say things weren’t exactly going according to plan was an... understatement. If Dean didn’t have enough reason to be pissed off at that bastard Eric...

He was going to make that bastard pay, no doubt about it.

Dean smiled more genuinely at the kiss that Sam gave him and chuckled softly at the younger boy’s comment about not being a tease.

“For once.” Dean replied, then nodded when Sam said he’d see him tomorrow. At least there was that. “See ya, Sammy.”

It was a few minutes after Sam had left, while Dean was contemplating how he was going to get up to use the bathroom, when he realized the watch he was wearing wasn’t his own. His first clue being it wasn’t even on the wrist he normally wore his on, and the second it was much nicer than his own. It was Sam’s... he’d seen the younger boy wearing it before. He wasn’t sure what had made the younger boy put it on him, but Dean couldn’t help but smile as he traced his finger around the smooth face.

God, when had he turned into such a girl? He was being so sappy. It wasn’t like Sam had given him a ring or anything... Sill every time Dean looked down at the watch he couldn’t help but smile. 

* * *

Sam and his dad made idle conversation on the way to the house. Once they arrived Sam helped his dad get dinner ready for his parents then disappeared to his room. He'd come back down when his mom came in and sit with them, maybe have a snack while they ate. It was kind of tradition. That and his mom insisted they always have a short time together every night it was possible. Sometimes they'd play a game if it was too late for dinner, Yahtzee or cards or something. Since he had a little time, he got on the computer and started setting up his own little form of vengeance against Eric. It would take some time because he would have to be very careful not to get caught. He would have to set up programs to route and re-route from server to server. He would have to set up false accounts and decryptions and hacks, but he swore to himself that Eric would soon find his bank account empty and credit blown to hell. He wouldn't mess with Eric's parents even though they probably deserved it. He'd set it up to do a little at a time. Nothing all at once. Maybe he would set it up so it looked liked some of his friends emptied his account…he wanted to nail them too. He knew how to hack just about anything. He and his computer club got bored a while back. They got into all sorts of mischief. They never did anything horrible. Changed a few grades in school, poked around other people's computers and bank accounts and …maybe hacked a few government computers now and again. It was just for the challenge and they weren't stupid enough to taunt the people whose computers they hacked. And they certainly didn't want to do anything that would arouse suspicion by doing anything more than getting into and looking at files.

Regardless, he definitely had the skills to do what he wanted to do, but if he slammed Eric all at once, Eric would obviously blame Dean and probably hire some sniffers to find out where the source was. Sam would get it all set up then activate it from a fake account at a library or something. He could set it up to drop little bombs on Eric at inconvenient times. Have all his credit cards be denied above a certain limit. But three hours later have it all back to normal. Charge stuff to his credit cards that were never actually purchased. Donate his bank account to some orphanage or something. Sam grinned suddenly when a new idea struck him. Post Eric's information places for other people to find and use. Others could make his life hell and Sam would be innocent of anything other than the post with Eric's social security number and such.

Yeah, it was always a bad idea to piss off a geek. Especially one who knew the computer magic that Sam knew.

He wrote down several ideas and started the set up for them. After his mom got home, they had dinner and Sam helped clean up, then he disappeared back up to his room to work on Dean's scrapbook. Maybe he could have it done by the weekend and it would cheer him up.

Even though he slept a few hours at Bobby's he was still ready for bed by eleven. Thinking of all the things he could do to Eric put a smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep. That and maybe thinking about seeing Dean in the morning.

* * *

Bobby woke him up early the next morning.

Even though Dean had slept for most of the day yesterday, he’d slept for most of the night too and somehow he still managed to feel exhausted when he woke up. At least Bobby had let him sleep the night through without waking him up every few hours. Dean was definitely needing his pain pills though by morning, probably one of the reasons why Bobby had woken him up early, to give them time to kick in.

The older hunter had also checked on his stitches, his ankle, and made Dean answer him truthfully about how he felt, before allowing him to sit up. His side still hurt like a mother fucking bitch, but his ankle might have been feeling a little less swollen at least. Small favors. Yeah, he still felt like hell, but he confirmed he should be up to taking Sam to school and coming straight back. Bobby glared at him hard when he emphasized the ‘straight back’ part and Dean knew better than to argue. Most likely he wouldn’t want to argue by the time he was done.

At least Bobby had managed to find the ankle splint they had in one of their first aid kits which would support it a lot better than wrapping alone. It made it easier for Dean to hobble to the bathroom at least even though he still limped a little despite his best efforts not to. Bobby wouldn’t let him go up the stairs though. Instead he fetched Dean’s clothes for him. The loosest pair of jeans that Dean owned, that hopefully wouldn’t aggravate his stitches, and a button up flannel shirt that was probably easier to put on than pulling a t-shirt over his head.

While he was getting dressed Bobby made him some breakfast and brought him some coffee too, watching him like a hawk as he ate. Probably to make sure Dean was really awake and not sick or disorientated in the least from the concussion or there was no way Bobby would let him out the door with his keys. The older man had probably already hid them in fact, but he brought them out to him when Dean had finished breakfast. The young man a little surprised that it was actually time to pick Sam up already.

Bobby walked out to his car with him, probably to make sure he could handle the porch stairs ok and to give him an arm if he needed but Dean didn’t. He was almost surprised when he saw his car, he knew that Bobby and Sam had worked on it yesterday, but damn. Not even a scratch. Dean grinned and Bobby gave him a pat on the shoulder, emphasizing once more to come straight back home, before Dean got in the car and started her up. Heading to Sam’s house. 

* * *

Sam was waiting out on the porch, watching for Dean's car. Bobby had called and told them Dean was on his way, so his dad went ahead and left for work. Sam wasn’t thrilled he was going to school to be protected from Eric and his cronies by some unknown guy, but at least he would be able to see Dean for a few minutes. He heard the car before he saw it, but it came into view just a few seconds later. He waved and skipped down the steps and across the driveway. He waited patiently for Dean to cover that last block. When Dean pulled into the drive Sam grinned foolishly at him but noticed that when he opened the car door the music wasn't up nearly as loud at it usually was. All things considered, Dean looked pretty good, though he still looked a little tired.

As soon as he slid into the seat he reached over and squeezed Dean's leg. "Morning."

Sam really wanted to lean across and kiss Dean but with their neighbors, he didn't think it was a good idea, not until he got up the nerve to tell his parents he was seeing a guy. He didn't want them to hear it from a neighborhood gossip. "I haven't told my parents yet, so you know, probably shouldn't kiss you here. Nosey neighbors and all. A hazard of suburbia. I know we don't have time for the warehouse, and you aren't up to it," he looked and Dean and corrected himself, "okay, you shouldn't be exerting yourself like that, but if you pull off on Neilson, we could at least kiss. If you wanted. Then we could get right back out on the road to get me to school. You're sure this cousin of yours is going to be there to meet us, right?" 

* * *

Dean couldn’t deny it, his mood improved drastically when he saw Sam. The younger boy looking so happy to see him… hell, that in itself seemed a little bit odd… and whatever discomfort he was in from the drive over was definitely worth it, he decided.

“Morning.” He returned, grinning a little more when he felt Sam’s hand come to rest on his thigh.

Though Dean couldn’t deny his surprise when Sam said he couldn’t give him a kiss now because he hadn’t told his parents… yet. Yet? The fact that the younger boy was even _considering_ telling his parents about them quite frankly shocked the hell out of him. He and Sam’s parent’s weren’t exactly on the best terms right now and they _didn’t_ know that he was fucking their underage son. Somehow Dean didn’t think that new bit of information was going to win him any points…

Maybe he’d talk to Sam about it later. Convince the younger boy that it was probably best for everyone if Sam kept it to himself.

But when Sam mentioned the warehouse, Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. He really had created a monster. No, he knew he wasn’t up for a while round of making out, but he definitely wasn’t going to refuse some kissing and light petting.

“Alright. Buckle up.” Dean replied as he pulled away from the curb in front of Sam’s house, heading for the warehouse. Though Dean could hear the slight nervousness in Sam’s voice when the younger boy asked him about his ‘cousin’ meeting them at school. He could tell that Sam wasn’t completely at ease with this new arrangement, neither was Dean, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. Sam couldn’t skip school the entire time Dean was laid up, and while Dean felt mostly ok right now he knew he wasn’t going to make a whole day at school. Especially with Eric and bastard’s cronies pushing him…

“He’ll be there. Bobby called him this morning. If he’s not, I wouldn’t leave you there alone anyway.” Dean reassured Sam. 

* * *

Sam knew he looked relieved at Dean's reassurances. He really hoped this Jeff guy was at least as intimidating looking as Dean. He squeezed Dean's thigh again. The fact Dean's cousin was coming to protect him and that Dean was hurt like he was, it wasn't lost on him it was all his fault. The burden laid heavily on him but there was absolutely nothing he could do except learn to fight and protect himself, and make sure that he started watching Dean's back too. If he had been paying attention maybe he would have seen that car and Dean wouldn't be hurt. He promised himself he would keep a better eye out for both Jeff and Dean.

The drive to Neilson St seemed to take forever and Sam couldn't help but slide his hand a little higher up Dean's thigh. It so sucked Dean was laid up. He really wanted to explore more things with Dean, learn more…feel Dean's hands on him more. His subconscious agreed because Dean was all he seemed to dream about and he woke up with wood so hard this morning it practically hurt to even touch it to take care of it. Well, he did have that one dream with yellow eyes in it. Telling him what a good boy he was, how proud he was of how he was progressing. He'd woken up in a cold sweat but at least he hadn't had the 'orange' dream as he called it. The heat and fear and screams. After a cup of hot chocolate, he was able to get back to sleep and had managed to avoid waking up his parents in the process. Another bonus.

As soon as Dean parked the car on Neilson Sam undid his seat belt and slid over to Dean's side. He kissed him, still a little tentatively, but he smiled against Dean's lips when he felt Dean's hand cup the back of his head. He finally broke the kiss and pulled back a little. "I already jacked off once this morning because of you. I don't want to meet your cousin with a hard on," Sam said. "You make me blush enough."

Even after saying that, Sam couldn't help but lean in and steal another kiss. "School is going to last forever today," he bemoaned. Poking Dean lightly in the chest he scolded him, "Rest up today and maybe we can do more when Jeff drops me off at the Salvage Yard this afternoon," he promised.

* * *

Dean was glad to see the nervousness in Sam’s expression ease, and he certainly wasn’t displeased with the way the younger boy’s hand squeezed his thigh and then began to move higher as they drove. Not to mention Sam’s touch took his mind off of the discomfort he was in from driving. Dean realized, a little belatedly, that this was the longest he’d sat up since he’d been injured and his side was really beginning to feel it now. He would be glad when he could return home and lay down again.

At the same time he kind of wished he’d come to pick Sam up a little earlier, so at least they could have some more time together before he had to drop the boy off at school. Not that they could really do much. The front seat was kind of cramped to do anything in even when he was not injured. Still…

Dean couldn’t help but grin at the way Sam immediately unbuckled himself and slid over almost before he’d managed to put the car into park. Not that he was complaining, no, especially when Sam kissed him. Though it was a little too soft for Dean’s liking.

His hand came up to cup the back of the younger boy’s neck as he tried to deepen the kiss and a sound of complaint escaped him before he could stop it when Sam pulled away before he could. He raised an eyebrow at the younger boy and then laughed when Sam explained.

“As long as it’s a hard on for me.” Dean replied with another chuckle that was lost in the second kiss that Sam gave him. Yeah… today was going to last forever. And despite Bobby’s reassurances that Jeff was a more than capable hunter Dean knew he was probably going to worry about Sam all day anyway.

When Sam poked him in the chest, Dean snorted and rolled his eyes a little.

“You’re just as bad as Bobby.” Dean ‘complained’ about the older man’s tendency to turn into a mother hen whenever he was injured. Still, he couldn’t deny he had liked Sam playing ‘nurse’ to him yesterday. “I’ll take it easy. I promise.”

* * *

"You better or you won't be in any shape for…anything else," Sam said. He had no idea what the anything else was, but he figured Dean would fill in the blanks with whatever suited him most, regardless of what Sam suggested anyhow. He reluctantly moved back to the passenger's side and rehooked his seat belt. "Okay, to school, James. I don't wanna make Jeff wait and you're beginning to look a little tired. You have to look in perfect shape, just like your baby." He patted the dash. "Oh and just so you know? I've decided to leave working on cars to you. I can recite the whole elemental table to you but I can't seem to tell a box-end wrench from a socket wrench from an Allen wrench." It was an exaggeration, he knew basic tools, but turning nuts and bolts and stuff yesterday hadn't really impressed him much. He would have much rather been inside going through Booby's books. He was really glad he had been able to help though, getting Dean's car fixed, especially since he felt responsible for it happening in the first place. "And why do they call it a wrench when it's more like a screwdriver anyhow?" Sam complained.

Giving a sidelong glance at Dean, knowing he was stepping into dangerous territory he said, "And maybe I can talk you into helping Dad with his car? Just pointers here and there," Sam added, "not actually in there helping him. Just maybe looking over the car and telling him the best place to start or looking over his work and telling him if he's screwing up? Or I don't know car stuff, but gaskets, oil, lubricants, all that stuff you mechanical types like to talk about over a beer? I'd kinda like you to come over now and again, and that would be a good excuse. You can give him a few pointers, we can eat whatever Mom and Dad cook up, and then you and I can play pool. And we still haven't played darts. I bet I can beat your butt at darts. And we can make out in the basement while Bobby keeps Mom and Dad busy," Sam added with a grin. More softly he added, "I know you're not crazy about my parents, but…I'd like it if you'd at least think about it. That's all. Just think about it. I mean, if you like a geek like me, you'll like my parents if you give them a chance. I just know you will." Sam gave him his very best puppy dog look he could and he knew he had, as his mom called it, the puppy dogs eyes of doom. She swore he could swindle a pot of gold from a leprechaun if he tried. 

* * *

Dean couldn’t deny he was really curious just what Sam had in mind. He also couldn’t deny he really wished the younger boy didn’t have to go to school now. At the very least if Dean went to school with Sam they could explore that ‘anything else’ during lunch period.

Damn it.

Dean sighed softly when Sam pulled away and shifted back over to his side of the car, though he snorted softly and rolled his eyes a second later at Sam calling him ‘James’. Like he was Sam’s chauffeur… well he supposed he was. Sam’s chauffeur, his bodyguard, his lover… No, Dean really didn’t mind.

“Don’t worry.” Dean replied as he turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the warehouse back onto the road. He knew Sam was right, and he would have to be ready for anything when they got close to the school. There was no telling what Eric might be planning... Hell, Eric might not even be the biggest problem. Any of those bastards that went to the school could be a problem. Dean certainly had plenty of enemies, even without Eric egging them on. The slightest suspicion that he wasn’t up to form and there was no telling what some idiot might try to pull.

Sam was kind of babbling now, but Dean found he really didn’t mind it. He wasn’t really tuning the other boy out, he was just trying to pay attention to the road and keep an eye out for anything suspicious as they got closer to school. So he almost missed when Sam changed topics and started talking about him coming over… to get to know his parents…

Dean couldn’t help the frown that pulled at his lips before he schooled his expression carefully neutral. Why the hell did Sam have to bring up his fucking parents now? Dean thought he’d made it quite clear that he didn’t want to have anything to do with them. Behind their too polite smiles he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. He knew the type. He had nothing in common with those people nor did he want anything in common with them.

Besides, it was probably better if he had as little contact with them as possible anyway. He doubted they would be anything but outraged and horrified to learn that he was fucking their teenage son, and they would probably have him thrown in jail if they even suspected it. He definitely had to talk to Sam about that. Later. No time now.

Dean wasn’t sure why Sam cared if he came over his house or not anyway. Sam was already coming over his house practically every day. They had plenty of time to see each other and do… whatever… By the time Dean had taught Sam enough to take care of himself and didn’t need his protection anymore… Dean had little doubt the younger boy will have grown tired of him and moved on to someone better. So what was the point?

But Dean could actually _feel_ Sam staring at him, waiting for his answer, and if the younger boy’s eyes were lasers they would have burned a hole into his skull by now.

“I’ll think about it.” He finally sighed. Giving the younger boy the answer he wanted to hear, even if it was a lie. By then they’d reached the school and Dean was pulling into the parking lot. It was already a lot more crowded than he would have liked… and the red Ferrari sitting in its customary parking space told him Eric was here. 

* * *

Sam grinned when Dean at least agreed to consider it. He knew his parents liked Bobby, but they were a little unsure of Dean and if he and Dean were going to be…boyfriends…then he really wanted them to get to know the senior before he told them that. It would be a lot easier on everyone if they got to see the non-sulky Dean. And he would just as soon avoid telling them how he and Dean ended up going steady. So if he could get Dean to come over a couple times, be social and maybe even show the side of himself that Sam had seen that first night they were playing pool, and the way Dean was protective of him, then he could just say it sort of happened. They didn't need to know it practically started out from the get-go in a relationship Sam hadn't wanted, but was rapidly turning into something he wanted…a lot. He studied Dean a minute. He didn't love him. He cared a lot about him in even such a short time. But he liked Dean more and more. He felt a connection with Dean that was different from the girls he had been with. He wasn't sure if maybe because Dean was a guy, or if it was because Dean was just Dean. Jesus they were an unlikely pair.

When Dean put the car into park Sam blinked. Shit. He hadn't even realized they were at school already. And the lead weight settled into his gut almost like a fist. He really didn't want to be here without Dean and that had nothing to do with him and Dean being together as something more than just friends. His gaze went to Eric's parking spot. Crap. Well, they wanted Eric and the others to see Dean, to see his car perfectly intact and Dean appearing to be likewise. He spied a new car in the parking lot, one that didn't belong to any of the rich kids here. He didn't know cars very well, but even he knew a Mustang when he saw one. It was dark blue, an older model, but a lot newer than Dean's. From where Sam sat, it looked like it was taken well care of. He wondered if everyone in Dean's family was into old cars.

"That your cousin's?" Sam asked jerking his chin toward the car. The words were hardly out of his mouth when someone knocked on the window beside him and he jumped, spinning around and he would have scrabbled back if his seat belt wasn't holding him in place.

A blond guy, blue eyes, hair pulled back in a pony tail and easily as muscular as Dean, stood there. He gave a two fingered salute to Dean and then opened Sam's door. "You must be Sam. I'm Jeff."

Sam stared at him a minute and okay, he wasn't into guys (except for Dean) but there was no denying that Jeff was hot as hell. "Uh, hi," Sam stammered.

Jeff gave Sam a once over as Sam got out of the car with his backpack. He'd already been told the score about the school and that Dean and Sam were 'together.' Sam was a good-looking kid but Jeff preferred curves and busts to muscles and cocks. He had heard Dean was good-looking and something of a lady's man, so when his father told him, he had been surprised, but then, his father also went on to say he didn't know if Dean and the kid were actually together or it was just a cover to protect the kid from the rich-bitches. It didn't matter to him. If he had to walk down the hall with his arm over the kid's shoulder or around his waist, whatever. Kissing him…well, not his thing so he really hoped he didn't have to.

Of course neither he nor Dean had ever met one another, but he didn't figure any other of these rich snots would be driving up in a black Impala. Only Jeff's trained eye caught the slight wince Dean gave as he climbed out of the car. "I've already been given three lectures about the dress code and that I'm going to have to get a hair cut. I hate being nice to assholes instead of telling them to bite me. If Dad hasn't been able to get me to cut my hair I'm not doing for these pansy-asses. Bad enough I've got to wear a fucking blazer. Worse, my girlfriend thinks I look 'adorable' in it." Jeff looked down at the coat with disgust. 

* * *

Dean looked over at Sam and he would have to be blind not to notice the tension that had come over the younger boy. Hell, he probably would have noticed it even if he _was_ blind. He reached over to give Sam’s thigh a comforting squeeze. No, he didn’t like this either, but he had to at least appear confident to reassure Sam that everything was going to be ok.

Sam had better be ok. If anything… anything at all… happened to Sam while he wasn’t there…

When Sam asked him if that was his ‘cousins’ car, Dean glanced in the direction the younger boy had nodded. If he had to guess, he bet it was. The older mustang definitely wasn’t like any of the cars the rich snots drove to school. Dean had to say he approved.

His hand slipped off Sam’s thigh when the younger boy jerked in response to the knock on the window. The concussion must be slowing his reaction time down a lot more than Dean wanted to admit because he hadn’t even noticed the older boy’s presence until then. It was just another example of how Dean was in no shape to look after Sam today even if he tried. If anyone could get the drop on him that easily, sure Jeff was another hunter, but it was still no excuse.

Even though they’d never met before, Dean knew exactly who the young man was even before he introduced himself. Of course he’d asked Bobby what the other boy looked like, to which the older hunter had replied he looked just like his father, who Dean had at least met. It was both true and not. Jeff didn’t have that hard grizzled look that most hunters seemed to get, including Jeff’s father, but Dean definitely saw the resemblance. At the same time he would have pegged Jeff as a hunter even if he looked nothing like his father just from the way he moved. Definitely a hunter and a good one.

Unfortunately he wasn’t concussed enough to miss the way Sam had looked at Jeff and the head to toe appraisal that Jeff gave Sam as the younger boy climbed out of the car, and Dean frowned a little before he forced himself to stop. He was _not_ going to go all jealous boyfriend on Sam now. The younger boy had already teased him about kissing Jeff if he was as hot as he was… unfortunately the older boy was, damn it.

As Dean got out of the car he couldn’t help but wince at the pull of the stitches in his side. Damn it, that hurt like a bitch. Not to mention his ankle was starting to feel really sore even with the brace. Still he managed not to limp as he came around the car and held out his hand to Jeff in greeting, even as he put an arm around Sam’s shoulders possessively.

“Well, could be worse. It could be pink and they could try to make you braid and put ribbons in your hair.” Dean replied with an amused grin. He had to admit, he kind of liked the guy… as long as Jeff looked after Sam and kept his hands off what was his there should be no problem.

* * *

Jeff smirked at the way the other hunter's arm went around the kid. Okay, there was no doubt, Dean and Sam were together. The easy but possessive way Dean's arm rested on the smaller boy's shoulder, the way Sam relaxed into Dean, yep, no doubt it wasn't a front. Lovers.

He met Dean's amused gaze, but he also saw the unspoken threat. Hands off Sam. Jeff gave a slight nod to the hunter. Messaged received, but he also gave Dean a look that told him plainly he would do what he had to to look out for the kid, even if it meant a little hands on possessiveness.

"Ashley says I look good in pink," Jeff said, "and so not happening ever again. And that's all you're getting about it."

"Ashley's your girlfriend?" the kid asked him.

Jeff dug out his wallet and extracted a picture buried in its depths. He handed it to Sam. Ashley was Jim Cobb's daughter, a kickass hunter for her age, and maybe not drop dead gorgeous, but she was pretty, slightly almond shaped eyes, lightly tanned, not busty but not flat chested, and brown hair with blonde highlights. She was only a little over five foot tall but a spitfire when she wasn't being all girly.

"She's pretty," Sam said sincerely.

"Yep," Jeff agreed. "Gonna be even prettier in a wedding gown," he murmured turning the picture back around to stare briefly at her. He stuffed her picture back in his wallet, "That is, in a few years when she's outta college, if she hasn't run off with some college jock and still wants a loser like me." He looked at the two. "So let's get Sam to homeroom. After we deliver Sam I'll get you back to your car and see you off. That way they see us together, and see you in one piece. That's the idea, right? You gonna be able to make it across the quad and back again without it looking like a strain on you?" Jeff figured Dean could, he was a hunter after all, but he wanted to make certain. If Dean couldn't pull it off, then their scam wasn't going to fly and both Sam and Dean could be in greater jeopardy. If Dean had to leave now, they'd still make it work. Dean knew his limits and his injuries and Jeff trusted the other hunter would pony up with the truth and not take foolish risks.

* * *

Jeff got the message. Good. They should have no problems then. Dean returned the other man’s nod and snorted softly in amusement when the older boy countered that he looked good in pink… at least according to his girlfriend. Dean couldn’t deny he was a little surprised hearing that the other man had a girlfriend. From what he knew about hunters, Dean didn’t think the life really lent itself to ‘long term’ relationships. Sure it was _possible_ but probably not easy in the least.

Yeah, Bobby had introduced him to a few hunters that were married. Some where even being hunters kind of ran in the family, like Jeff’s father and Jeff. But the hunters who were married, their spouses were usually hunters too and Dean figured most of them had been married… before… whatever happened to make them hunters.

Dean glanced down at the picture Jeff handed to Sam to view. He had to agree, she was pretty. Dean wondered briefly if she had any idea that Jeff was a hunter and what went bump in the night out there. He wondered what Sam would think if he knew… what Dean really was. What the younger boy might think of him if he knew a lot of the stories being whispered about him around school weren’t all that far from the truth.

Just another reason why there was no point in pretending… whatever was going on between them… was going to be long term. Dean knew he couldn’t hide what he was from Sam forever. Hopefully Sam would get tired of him and leave before he found out or Dean was forced to tell him. He’d rather Sam leave because he got bored with him than Sam leave because he was afraid or disgusted by him.

Dean forced his attention back on Jeff where it belonged when the other hunter started talking business.

“I can make it.” Dean answered without hesitation. Yeah, it was going to be one hell of a strain, but he could hide it. He’d make it because Sam was depending on him to make it, and Dean had certainly pushed his way through worse pain when he had to. “Though it would probably look better if you stayed with Sam, he’s the one who’s supposed to need protection after all, not me.”

* * *

"And that'll do all sorts of good if you get jumped coming back to your car by yourself. We get him to homeroom, make sure the teacher is there, and then I come back out to get my duffel out of the car which I've conveniently forgotten. You know damned good and well if they catch you alone crossing campus, this thing goes up in flames. I am not missing out on a hunt to come back to the agony of school to see you get jumped by these assholes."

Jeff saw Dean flinch when he mentioned 'hunt.' Swell, the kid didn't know. He was a fucking civilian. Annoyance flit across Jeff's face. Civilian and hunter long term relationships generally went bust when the civ learned about hunting and figured the hunter was freaking nuts. Shit what else didn't the kid know? He think Jeff and Dean were really related? One look at the innocence in the kid's eyes and Jeff chalked that up to an affirmative. After flashing Dean a mild glare he gave Sam a tight smile. "Me and some buds were gonna go deer hunting this weekend. You ever do any hunting? Next time we go, you and Dean could maybe come."

Sam shook his head. "No thanks. I'm decent with a bow but I just don't know that I could…killing things, it's just not what I want to spend my weekends doing." Sam saw all the veiled looks being passed between the older boys but could only guess at what a couple of them meant. Looking up at Dean Sam agreed with Jeff. "I'll be okay in homeroom for ten minutes. I'd rather Jeff walk you back out to the car. I'd feel better. I won't leave the room and you know the teacher won't let them do more than try to elbow me or something. I can handle that. I couldn't handle worrying about whether you ran into Eric on your way out of here."

Sam jerked his head toward the building across campus. "C'mon, we better get going." Adjusting his pack he began walking toward homeroom, making sure not to move too fast. Besides, he liked Dean's arm on his shoulder. He had to admit he felt really safe when Jeff fell in beside him. He realized that Dean's injured side was exposed, but he also realized that if Jeff were on that side of Dean it would look like the senior was the one being protected instead of Sam. He reminded himself to stay alert so he could help avoid trouble and cover the backs pf the two looking out for him.

* * *

The older boy's condescending reply had Dean's expression turning dark and he was this close to telling Jeff to go fuck himself. Dean had met plenty of hunters with the same attitude towards him. That he didn't know jack shit because he hadn't been in the 'business' for very long, only a few years really. Treating him like he was completely inept... He'd come to expect it even, but he hadn't been expecting it now, and obviously his earlier assessment of Jeff was completely off base. The guy was a fucking asshole.

Dean almost pointed out that if he _did_ get 'jumped' on his way back to the car and Jeff had to come to his 'rescue' then how the fuck was that going to look? Before he could however, Jeff had mentioned 'hunting' and Dean's eyes narrowed even more. Just what the fuck had Bobby told the other hunter about the situation? Obviously not enough.

The other hunter's annoyance when he realized that Sam was a 'civilian' was obvious but Dean really didn't give a shit. It was clear that he and Jeff were going to have to exchange a few words when Sam wasn't around. It was none of Jeff's fucking business what Sam did or didn't know about something that had nothing to do with the situation at hand. Jeff had agreed to look after Sam and watch the younger boy's back, that was all. All he had to do was that, along with keeping his hands off Sam and keeping his fucking mouth shut about hunting for a few days until Dean was healed up enough. Even he could surely manage that.

It certainly didn't help that Sam decided to side with the older boy on the issue.

Again, Dean didn't really have time to answer because Sam began walking towards the school, leaving both of them to follow. Having really no other choice, Dean did follow, but only as far as the edge of the parking lot where he finally came to a decision and let his arm drop off the younger boy's shoulders.

"Go on. I'll see you later." Dean told Sam, giving the younger boy as reassuring a look as he could, before he turned and started back for his car. There was really no point in him making the trip. Jeff might think he knew how the minds of these little prep school bastards worked, but he had no fucking clue. No matter what he thought, if he walked with him back to his car it was going to make him look weak. Probably even encourage an attack not only to test him but test Jeff as well. Which would be just as bad, maybe even worse, if Dean was caught alone.

The only real option then was to let Sam go on alone with Jeff and hope that enough people had seen him already to assume he was a hundred percent or at least nearly so. Also if Dean showed that he trusted Jeff to be able to look after Sam by himself, it might help dissuade some of the jerk-offs from trying anything.

He could hope anyway.

* * *

Jeff frowned and he saw the concerned look pass over Sam's face as well when Dean stopped and said goodbye. He glanced at Sam. "Stay put."

Swell, he was pissing off Dean, upsetting the kid, and making a mess out of the whole fucking thing. He shoulda called Bobby and got the details for himself. His dad was notorious for leaving out the details. Or maybe Bobby hadn't told him. Who the hell knew. He did know this wasn't the way he wanted this to go. Winchester was a year younger than him. Most hunters didn't start hunting until they were in their mid twenties when something set them down the path, unless you were born into it. Having someone else his age that was competent as a hunter, it was nice to know he wasn't alone. Sure there was his girl, but someone his age to toss down a beer with now and again that wasn't his girl? That would be cool. As soon as Winchester graduated, he'd probably go full time hunter and Jeff wanted to be able to call on the guy. Most hunters treated young hunters as if they were stupid no matter how long they'd been doing it, no matter if they'd proven themselves. And he just did it to Dean, treated him like he had been treated through the years, coming in all knowing, deciding what was best, almost blowing Dean's cover with his lover. Grade A asshole. Not a good start.

Jeff strode to Dean's side catching up with him easily. Softly he said, "Winchester, sorry. This is your turf. This is your call. My dad always says to trust the one who did the research, and that I can be an arrogant bastard thinking I know best when my head's up my ass. If you say they won't fuck with you when you're headed back across campus by yourself then okay. You know 'em. Bobby and my dad will kill me if I fuck this up. Look, my job's your back up. I don't like leaving my back up without back up, y'know? Doesn’t sit right, but you're calling the shots, not me. Let me get my duffel out of my car and we play it your way."

Jeff made a beeline for his Mustang and grabbed a new leather duffel out of the trunk.

Sam came back to Dean's side and touched him lightly on the arm. "Hey. C'mon. Walk me to class. He can catch up."

* * *

Dean didn’t get very far before he heard the hurried footsteps catch up to him because unfortunately he couldn’t move very fast. He turned to give an annoyed look at the older hunter. What the hell did he want? To chew him out? Couldn’t it at least wait till after school, Dean wasn’t in the mood for any more lectures and he was going to make Sam be late for home room at this rate. That asshole teacher of his wouldn’t hesitate giving the younger boy detention either which would just further complicate matters.

Before he could say anything... damn that was happening a lot lately... the older boy was apologizing to him, and yeah, that was a bit unexpected... Yeah... Bobby had said the same thing about him on more than one occasion. Maybe Dean was being a little hard on the guy. They were the ones who’d asked for his help, after all. Jeff was doing them a favor, not the other way around.

Dean knew he had a short fuse to begin with, and the fact that he was tired and hurting more than a little only made it even shorter. The fact was this was a lose/ lose situation no matter what way you looked at it.

Sam couldn’t be left alone, not after what Eric had pulled. Unfortunately right now Dean was almost more vulnerable than Sam, but he couldn’t show it, or it was going to cause them all a hell of a lot more problems than they had already. Dean wasn’t a hundred percent certain that no one would try to mess with him on his way back alone to the car but he was sure he could bluff his way out of any situation a lot better if it didn’t look like he needed the back up.

He appreciated that Jeff wanted to back him up, but Dean wasn’t the target. Not really. Eric had tried to take him out to get to Sam. No, Dean definitely wasn’t used accepting help from others, especially strangers, but it was more than just a matter of pride. Sam’s safety came first.

Dean finally gave the other hunter a nod before Jeff rushed back to his car for his bag. He was almost surprised by the light tugging on his arm from Sam. Yeah, ok, if they didn’t go now then Sam was going to definitely be late.

“Alright.” Dean agreed, letting his arm return to rest across Sam’s shoulders protectively and possessively as it had become almost instinct by now whenever they were at school. As they walked across the quad to the building where Sam’s home room was located there were plenty of stares in their direction from other students on their way to home room. Dean wondered how many of those stares were because he was here at all, and how many were because he was out of uniform. He wondered exactly what the story was about his little mishap the other day. Probably that he’d been smeared all over the asphalt? Maybe that he’d even died? Who knew.

No one said anything as they passed however, in fact, everyone seemed quite content to get out of his way as normal, and Dean figured that was a good sign. 

* * *

Sam was glad to have Dean's arm back over his shoulder. The same looks they always got were on the faces of the other students, though a few seemed more surprised than others. There were probably lots of rumors since neither he nor Dean had been in school the day before and he had no doubt Eric bragged about Dean's car getting smashed up and Dean going to the hospital. Sam held himself confidently. He had his protector and even though he was going to miss seeing Dean, he had Jeff and Jeff looked more than capable of taking care of himself and Sam too, hopefully. He knew Dean wouldn't entrust him to someone who couldn't watch over him, but then, it was possible Jeff just looked good. I mean, they were cousins. Just because Dean could fight didn't mean Jeff could, but hopefully he wouldn't have to anyhow.

Jeff was pleased to see Dean change his mind, or that kid of his changed it for him. Jeff kept about a step beside and behind Sam, scanning over the faces, watching the reactions of everyone. It was obvious that Dean had definitely impressed upon a lot of them that he was not to be fucked with. Dean walked slow but easy and there were no outward signs he was injured and that comforted Jeff. He hoped to hell Winchester was right though. It was going to suck out loud if he got jumped. Then Jeff was probably going to be stuck at this school for a few weeks at least, until Dean was able to regain his rep and put any jackasses back in their places. At least Jeff didn't have to worry about getting to class to pick up Sam since he had been placed in the same classes as the kid. Man was it gonna be a long day though. He did all right in school and liked math and physics, but everything else bored the crap out of him.

The were approaching the building where Sam's homeroom was when Jeff caught movement off to his right and stepped up beside Sam. "Heads up, to the right," Jeff murmured.

* * *

Eric stood in the shadows of the steps leading up to Jordan Hall, ignoring the occasional nervous looks Adam and Cody kept shooting in his direction every few minutes. They’d been waiting here for a good fifteen minutes already. They’d waited even longer yesterday, even missing home room, while they waited for Sam Colt to show up for school. The boy hadn’t, and Eric was not pleased one damned bit.

He had paid good money to ensure that little ‘accident’ in the parking lot of that cheap ass restaurant the other day. He’d made his instructions quite clear. Take out Winchester, and he didn’t care how. Yeah, Eric knew it was on the risky side waiting around to watch the ‘show’ but he’d wanted to see Dean Winchester get what he fucking deserved for himself. The results had been less than… satisfying… unfortunately.

He’d been rather hoping the freak would be flattened under the wheels, that he could watch his head explode like a watermelon. Hell, at the very least see Winchester get cut in half between the two cars, if it didn’t kill him at least paralyzing him for life. He wished he could have seen the look on Sam’s face when that happened. That would have been satisfying.

Instead the fucking car had barely grazed the freak, but at least some damage had been done. It didn’t take nearly as much cash to get a look at Winchester’s charts from the hospital. A concussion, over a hundred stitches in his left side, and a sprained ankle. Not nearly as bad as Eric would have liked… but he could take care of that later. The important thing was that Winchester was out of the picture, at least for a week if the notes the doctor left on the chart was correct. Just enough time to give Sam what he deserved for leaving him for that junk yard trash…

Only Sam hadn’t shown up for school yesterday, he hadn’t been at home either, and Eric was pissed. He knew where Sam was yesterday. The junk yard. But Sam couldn’t hide there from him forever. He couldn’t stay out of school that long without just cause, or he’d be expelled. He had to show up sooner or later…

Only the younger boy wasn’t alone. Sam had shown up for school today all right, but he had his injured junk yard dog in tow, and another boy Eric didn’t recognize. If his expression had been dark before it turned practically murderous before he schooled his features and motioned for Adam and Cody to follow him.

“Hey Winchester! Heard you had some car trouble the other day.” Eric smirked as he walked up to the trio.

* * *

Sam clenched his fist, staring at the bastard. They were waiting on him. Just like they had the day after Sam had rebuked and run from Eric. The day they had beat the shit out of him. He really didn't think about it. All he could see was red, his fury blazing inside him. Eric had tried to kill Dean. Because of him. Eric had torn up Dean's car and nearly had him run down. If Dean hadn't dove over the hood, Sam might be going to Dean's _funeral_.

Sam struck almost instinctively. He slammed his fist into Eric's face and felt something crack but he honestly didn't know if it was his hand or Eric's nose since pain shot through his hand with the blow. There was an impressive spurt of blood that ran from Eric's nose. But he didn't stop there. He followed up the hit with a solid knee to Eric's groin, and clipped him with a left hook that had Eric stumbling back, groaning in pain and grabbing his balls.

"You god damned sonuvabitch! You touch him again and I will fucking END you!" Sam screamed at Eric, his face contorted with the same fury that was making his blood boil with rage. He stepped forward, his voice suddenly deadly calm. "And just so you know, you didn't get there first. I'm his. I'll always be his. And I guess I've got you to thank for that. If you hadn't tried to rape me, if you hadn't beaten me up, I'd have never turned to him."

Jeff stared at the scene with shock. He thought he was here to protect the kid, but the kid, while his form was sloppy, seemed like he was a spitfire. Of course if they hadn't been here and the three boys had gotten to Sam, he was certain it wouldn't have been pretty. He wanted to glance over at Dean, but knew better. He had to keep his eyes on the jerkwad's buddies. Sam struck with surprise. He had no idea if the kid could actually defend himself though.

* * *

Lancaster waiting for them outside the building to Sam’s homeroom wasn’t unexpected. Neither was the bastard’s taunts and the obvious pleasure he’d taken in smashing up his car and almost getting him killed. If there was any doubt at all that Eric had been behind the hit and run it was pretty much erased. Too bad the prick didn’t say anything more incriminating while there were witnesses around to hear it.

What _was_ unexpected though was Sam’s reaction.

Dean didn’t have a chance to reply to Eric’s taunts, and he certainly wasn’t the only one who was taken by surprise when Sam suddenly launched himself at Eric. Watching Sam break the bastard’s nose and knee his would be rapist in the nuts should have been satisfying, and on one level it was, unfortunately this was about the worst time or place for Sam to fly off the handle. Here where Lancaster had way too much influence and a small crowd had already gathered to watch the ‘show’.

And Sam had just struck first.

Fuck.

Eric and Cody were already moving in to join the fight even as Eric recovered from the surprise attack.

“You little bastard!” Eric sputtered, blood still pouring out of his nose as he moved to retaliate. Reacting purely on instinct Dean moved to intercept the punch that Eric tried to aim at the younger boy. Blocking it with one arm and hauling Sam back behind him with the other… unfortunately that left his wounded side wide open.

Eric wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

The punch to his side hit Dean so hard he could barely breathe through the pain and he knew more than a few of the stitches had been torn wide open. Dean couldn’t even see the smug grin on Eric’s face beyond the dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. He certainly didn’t see the fist that slammed into the side of his head that dropped him like a stone. 

* * *

Jeff should be used to things happening fast. In his line of work, if you didn't react, you ended up dead or wounded or worse. When the two cohorts moved in, Jeff took the first hit, blocking the blow one of the cronies aimed for Sam who was hyper-focused on the leader. Having taken the first hit, he could legally retaliate. Jeff wasted no time and cold cocked the bastard with a one-two punch that put the guy on the ground, groaning. The leader was back on his feet and going after Sam, but Dean yanked Sam out of the way and took the blow himself. Then the leader hit Dean's side and the way Dean went down, Jeff knew that shouldn't have happened, then the leader finished Dean off.

The next thing he knew Sam had launched himself, literally, at the leader. Jeff stopped the other sidekick from interfering by grabbing him by the collar and spinning him away, practically throwing him into the crowd that had gathered. Sam's fists were flying but the bigger kid was getting his licks in. He almost hated to do it but Jeff yanked the two apart. Sam tried to barrel past him and reach the bastard again, but Jeff grabbed his arm. "See to Dean," Jeff ordered, giving him a solid shake. The bastard was climbing to his feet, brushing off his school uniform, absolute murder in his eyes. Jeff stood between him and Sam and Dean.

"It's done," Jeff growled. "Back down or be put down."

Sam didn't want to stop beating on Eric until Eric was in the hospital or worse. Maybe it was luck he hit Dean where he did, but Sam didn't think so. With Dean's cousin firmly between him and Eric, he didn't have a choice. He'd get Eric. He would get that son of a bitch if it was the last thing he did. Since he was cut off from Eric, he did what Jeff told him and turned to Dean. Gently he shook Dean's shoulder but Dean didn't even groan. It was just like yesterday. Oh god, it was just like yesterday. Dean already had a concussion! Sam felt for Dean's pulse and relief swelled in him when he felt the strong pulse at the senior's throat. He rolled the older youth over to check his injured side and saw the blood that soaked the black tee.

"He's unconscious. He's bleeding bad," Sam told Jeff, panic in his voice. He looked at the bystanders. "Will one of you god-damned idiots call a fucking ambulance?" he yelled at them. He didn't cry which kind of surprised him, but he was too mad to cry. His fault. Again.

Jeff's eyes narrowed but he moved back by Dean, watching the leader out of the corner of his eye. He lifted Dean's tee enough to get a look. Half the stitches had been ripped out and while there was a lot of blood, really it was superficial as far as any hunter was concerned. No penetration, just torn flesh. Dean wasn't going to bleed out, but the injury did need pressure held on it. The fact the injured hunter was out cold worried him the most. A secondary blow to a concussion could be bad. He peeled back Dean's eyelids. Equal pupils. That didn't mean it wasn't serious, but it supported Dean was probably just knocked unconscious.

When Sam started to get to his feet, Jeff could already tell the kid was ready to go after the blond asshole yet again. Tenacious, he'd give the kid points for that. Stupidity, yeah, he ranked up there in that department too. What a fucking mess. He grabbed Sam's wrist and yanked him back to his knees. He pulled off his coat, then his shirt and folded it up and pressed it against Dean's bloodied side. "Hold it there," Jeff growled at Sam, making certain Sam wasn't going to give him any argument.

Jeff turned back to the blond snot and glared at him, folding his arms over his chest and daring the shit to get one step closer to his charges. Bobby and his dad were gonna kill him.

* * *

Eric's satisfaction watching Dean Winchester crumble like the sack of shit he was, was short lived. The new guy who'd been walking with Winchester and Colt had already laid out Adam, and Cody wasn't faring much better. He wasn't prepared for the younger boy to literally tackle him to the ground in retaliation, but he was only taken off guard for a moment. Sam wasn't nearly strong enough to overpower him for very long and Eric was going to take great pleasure in beating the shit out of the little whore.

Before he could get the upper hand unfortunately Sam was being yanked off of him by the new kid and pulled back. Eric quickly got back to his feet, fully prepared to give Sam the beating of his lifetime, but the new guy stood in his way. Cody was up but Adam was still down. Between the two of them they might have been able to take down the newcomer…

He was considering it even as he looked down at Winchester who still hadn't moved even now that Sam was trying to rouse him. Blood. And a lot of it. Eric smirked when Sam demanded someone call an ambulance and no one moved. Everyone apparently too stunned by what was happening to do much more than gape.

"Guess Winchester isn't such a bad ass after all." Eric remarked in a sneer, earning a couple of snickers here and there.

"What is going on here!" An angry shout came from the back of the crowd. Of course by now the fight had drawn the attention of the faculty, a few teachers now pushing their way through the crowd that had gathered shouting demands to know what was going on.

"Colt and Winchester attacked me, Mr. Moore." Eric replied instantly. No one gathered would deny that Sam Colt had thrown the first punch.

* * *

Jeff looked at the teacher. "We need an ambulance. Now. And Dean never touched this son of a—him."

"And you are?" the teacher demanded.  
"Jeff Shelby, sir. Just started here. Dean is unconscious and bleeding badly."

The teacher glanced over the scene and pulled out his cell phone and ordered the ambulance. He made a second call for the nurse to come to Jordan Hall. After shutting his phone he shook his head. That's what they got for letting riff-raff into the school.

After noting faces of who was watching the fight Mr. Moore snapped, "Everyone, get to your classes. Now."

As the students began to file away murmuring amongst themselves, Mr. Moore went to Dean's side. He started to make Sam move so he could see the injury, but Sam wouldn't budge. "You don't take off a pressure bandage once you put it on," Sam said firmly.

Mr. Moore straightened, glaring at the impudent sophomore. He turned to Eric. "Mr. Lancaster, I want the details. Do I need to call in the police?"

* * *

The crowd began to disperse reluctantly at the teacher’s command though some still tried to linger and see what was going on. Cody started to help Adam up off the ground. Eric wiped off some of the blood that was still dripping from his surely broken nose as he gave the teacher his most sincere look.

“Yes, sir. I want to press charges. Like I said, I was attacked. Colt threw the first punch, you can ask anyone who was watching.” Eric replied.

“Winchester got in the middle of it when I tried to defend myself. He’s attacked me before, what was I supposed to do?” 

* * *

  


If Sam hadn't been holding the bandage on Dean's side he would have been on his feet again. If looks could kill Eric Lancaster would have been a smoldering pile of ash.

He was going to be arrested. Jesus. His parents were going to kill him. He wondered what assault and battery earned a juvenile. The though of being handcuffed, put in the back of a cruiser, it sent a sick feeling through him. He wouldn't be able to ride with Dean to the hospital, he wouldn't be able to be there for him. Emotions raged through him wildly as everything that just happened really sunk in. What had he been thinking? Thinking. Yes, he had to clear his mind and think. Other than the fact Eric was fucking him over yet again, what could he possibly do to retaliate?

"Guess that means I'll get to ask the cops if they've tracked down the owner of the car that hit Dean yet. A bystander got the license. I told them the guy was hired by someone." Sam stared straight at Eric. "And since the person in question has a lot of clout, the investigation is being kept tight under wraps. They'll nail the guy who tried to kill Dean and I imagine the bastard will turn on whoever hired him. Attempted murder. That'll look good on a resume, won't it Lancaster?" Sam said. "I'm sure they'll be character witnesses with a lot to say about the guy too."

Jeff wanted to tell Sam just to shut the fuck up, but he could see a shadow of doubt linger for a moment in Lancaster's eyes. Jeff wondered if someone had gotten the license.

The nurse hurried up just then as Mr. Moore pulled out his phone to call the police.

* * *

Eric frowned briefly at Sam’s veiled accusations and then he smirked. The kid was bluffing. He could tell. Even if Sam wasn’t bluffing, it didn’t matter.

Eric always made sure to cover his tracks well. The car in question wasn’t even registered and it was already gone, as was the driver he hired. There was no way any of it could be traced back to him. Anything Sam told the police would be circumstantial at best, and hell, his father practically owned the cops anyway. Same with the judges and no way in hell Sam’s family could afford better lawyers than his father. But Eric knew it would never come to that.

Character witnesses? Hah. No one was stupid enough to side with Sam Colt, a fucking nobody, and that piece of trailer trash Winchester over him. Well, except this moron who’d shown up with them this morning. Jeff Shelby. In a few hours Eric was going to figure out just who that asshole was and how to get rid of him.

But the fact that Sam was so desperate to try to bluff his way out of this just proved that he was finally getting to the younger boy. Oh yeah, Sam was going to pay. Big time. Winchester right along with him. The way Sam had completely lost it this morning just proved Eric’s theory, Dean was the boy’s weak spot.

Looking down at the unconscious piece of shit a mild look of disgust crossed his face. He wondered if it was true, if Sam really had given it up for Winchester. Well… he supposed if the boy’s cherry really had been popped there was no point in being the least bit gentle with him when he finally got his turn.

Eric looked back at Sam, meeting the younger boy’s fiery glare with one as cold as ice.

“You might want to be careful just what kind of accusations you make without any proof to back them up, Colt. You’re in enough trouble already.” Eric replied evenly, glancing briefly back down at Winchester for emphasis. 

* * *

At this point Jeff understood why Sam had cut loose on the older boy. He wanted to plant his first in the smarmy little bastard's face too.

"What accusations?" Sam said innocently. "What would a fine upstanding asshole like yourself be doing trying to run Dean down? Though it's a pity you didn't see the guy and could give a description, seeing as how you were parked right out on the street when it happened." Sam turned to the nurse, a tall slender man with dark hair. "He was in a car accident a few days ago. He's recovering from a concussion and some stitches are in his side. Lancaster," Sam said, no longer willing to call the senior by his first name, "hit him right where he was injured. Several stitches got ripped out."

The nurse nodded and took Dean's pulse and checked his eyes, shining a flashlight in them. "Equal reaction in the pupils," he said and gave Sam a slight smile. "That's a good sign. Decreases the chance his concussion was made any worse. He looked at the shirt Dean was using to staunch the bleeding. The stain didn’t appear to be growing. "Just keep holding it there. If all he's done is rip out his stitches, it isn't serious. It looks like you've got the bleeding well under control." He patted Sam on the shoulder. "You've done good here. Not much more we can do except monitor him until the ambulance arrives."

"Shouldn't he be waking up now?" Sam asked quietly.

"Probably any time now," the nurse reassured him.

Since there were other witnesses now, Jeff returned to Sam's side. "You ever been arrested, kiddo?"

Sam shook his head. Jeff squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Just cooperate. They probably won't even cuff you. Tell them the truth. Everything that happened and everything you think that happened. If you're thirsty or have to piss, just tell them. They're not the bad guys, okay? I'll call Bobby and let him know what happened. The police will contact your parents, but I'll try to get Bobby to give them the heads up first."

"They're gonna kill me," Sam said, his eyes showing he was scared by the prospect.

"I doubt that," Jeff said. "Yell at you? Yeah, probably. Dean'll probably rip you a new one too next time he sees you."

Sam huffed, "I just—"

"Save it for the police, Sam. It's done, it can't be undone. At least you broke the jerk's nose for what that's worth."

Looking over at the arrogant senior, he could see the bruising forming under both Eric's eyes. He gave the Jeff a nod. "That might make this whole fuck up worth it."

Jeff laughed and clapped him the back. "There you go. Now how about you? Hurt?"

Giving a half shrug Sam said, "Nothing bad."

"Have the medic look you over anyhow," Jeff ordered and took over holding the bandage in place.

After giving Sam a quick examination, the nurse confirmed Sam's assessment. He had a few bruises, but nothing serious but he did put an icepack on Sam's hand. The nurse went over to Eric next. He set Eric's nose and Jeff smirked at the yelp Eric made. Yeah that hurt like a bitch. Hearing a groan from Dean, Jeff knelt down by Dean.

"Dean, you're at the school, Lancaster knocked you out after you pulled Sam out of the way. You've ripped out your stitches from the car accident. Just stay laying down. The ambulance is on the way."

"I'm right here Dean, right here," Sam said, gripping Dean's hand.

The wail of sirens could be heard approaching.

* * *

Mother fucker…

It was with a feeling of Déjà vu Dean came to with a low groan of pain. Lying on his back on hard cement, his side killing him, his head pounding fiercely… a worried voice right beside him as a warm hand gripped his own. Dean forced his eyes open, dark spots dancing in front of his vision for a moment before he finally managed to focus on Sam’s face, just as worried as his voice had sounded, hovering over him.

The other guy… Jeff… it took him a moment to remember, was telling him what had happened, though he really only had to say one word. Lancaster. That mother fucker…

His gaze suddenly laser focused on the smug looking bastard standing not far away and despite the order to stay laying down Dean began struggling to get up, murder in his eyes. The bastard had taken advantage of his distraction as he’d tried to pull Sam to safety. Eric had known exactly where to hit him to cause the most damage and take him down. Dean was going to rearrange the fucker’s face so not even his own parents would recognize him. 

* * *

Jeff watched as Dean slowly returned to consciousness. Concussions often went hand in hand with forgetting what caused the concussion. In Jeff's opinion that was a design flaw in humans. If you didn't know what nailed you, how could you know to avoid it in the future. Of course in this case it was a moot point. Dean's unfocused gaze went to his lover's first and recognition penetrated the haze reflected in his eyes. When his gaze shifted to Jeff, Jeff could tell for a moment Dean didn't recognize him. When he said 'Lancaster' Dean was instantly alert and struggling to rise. Since Jeff was already holding the bandage in place it didn't take much for him to maintain leverage over Dean and he pushed the teen back to the ground.

"Cool it, Winchester. Police and ambulance are on their way," he said pointedly.

Sam squeezed Dean's hand, resting his free hand on Dean's shoulder to help Jeff keep Dean in place. To see Dean hurt again, and all because of him, it was practically ripping him into shreds on the inside and he knew Lancaster was enjoying every fucking minute of it. He'd told Eric about the car license plate hoping Eric might call the guy. He could hack Eric's cell phone and get the number and leave an anonymous tip or something. He wasn't sure Eric was going to take the bait though and so he couldn't even do that for Dean. He would still try, but he didn't hold out much hope of succeeding. He seemed to be a royal fuck-up at everything.

"I'm sorry Dean. This is all my fault. Again. I-I probably won't be able to go to the hospital with you, but Jeff can. He's going to call Bobby too. You do what the doctors tell you, okay? Maybe you'll see that nurse again. I'll visit just as soon as I can, okay?"

* * *

Dean hated how easily he was held in place and knew Jeff and Sam weren’t even expending that much effort to hold him down. The pleased smirk plastered on Eric’s face only made Dean’s blood boil hotter. He was going to fucking kill the bastard when he got his hands on him…

“I don’t need a fucking ambulance.” Dean ground out in reply, though he stopped struggling to get up, since he couldn’t budge Sam and Jeff’s grip on him anyway. It took a moment for what else Jeff had said to penetrate.

“Cops? What the fuck for?” One look at Sam as the younger boy began to apologize, telling him that he wasn’t going to be able to go to the hospital with him, and the pieces fell into place. If possible Dean’s expression turned even darker.

“Let me up.” Dean ordered, giving Jeff a look that meant there would be hell to pay if he didn’t. He wasn’t going to try to go after Lancaster again. Not now at least. But he wasn’t going to the fucking hospital again, that was for damned sure. Not if that bastard was going to have Sam fucking arrested!

“I don’t need to go to the god damned hospital. I’m fine.” 

* * *

Jeff saw the look, the murder in Dean's eyes. He was glad he wasn't Lancaster, but then, Lancaster really had no idea what a hunter was capable of. Hunters didn't hunt people, but that didn't mean they couldn't pound them into the ground. Multiple times. Lancaster was a cocky son-of a bitch that was probably accustomed to either picking on smaller targets, or having his cronies back him up. He was going to be in for a shock when Dean was well enough to go after him. And Jeff was more than ready to help Dean. Take Lancaster out with a tranq, drag his ass to some isolated location, keep him blindfolded, and whump on him for a few days. Although Dean would want to do the beating, Dean would need to be seen to have an alibi. Jeff would get the pleasure. Yeah…like Dean would give up that joy.

"You are staying flat on you back. All your stitches have been ripped and you've been unconscious for a good couple minutes." Dean was of legal age and he could deny treatment if he really insisted on it. "And Bobby will kick your ass if you don't go to the hospital and get checked out."

"Please Dean," Sam begged. "Please go to the hospital. There's nothing you can do. Let them check you out and fix your stitches, okay? Then Bobby can take you home and I'll be there tonight or tomorrow. Promise." Sam had no idea how long he would be stuck at the police station or juvi hall. Would bail be set right away? And would his parents let him check on Dean? It didn't matter, he decided. If he had to sneak out in the middle of the night, he'd get over to see Dean.

* * *

Dean grit his teeth in frustration, it was about all he could fucking do. Jeff wasn’t letting him up. When the older boy mentioned Bobby… yeah he had a point. If Dean went to the police station with Sam instead of going to the hospital Bobby would probably kill him, or at least rip him a new asshole, but he didn’t really care.

When Sam started begging him though… Dean sighed heavily and grudgingly nodded, but it was obvious he was far from pleased.

“Fine. But I want Jeff to go with you.” Dean finally said. He wasn’t exactly sure how much pull Lancaster had with the cops but when he had broken the bastard’s hand and beat up his friends they had certainly made his life hell. He didn’t want Sam to have to go through that alone.

By then the ambulance had pulled up and the paramedics were there. Déjà vu all over again. Dean tried to keep a hold of Sam’s hand for as long as he could, trying to offer the younger boy what reassurance he could but eventually they forced Sam to move so they could check him over. By the time they had him loaded up onto a gurney the cops had shown up as well. 

* * *

Sam started to protest but the look on Dean's face made him close his mouth and nod instead. "Okay. Deal."

Jeff and Sam were forced to step back. Jeff wrapped one arm over Sam's chest, holding him close, offering what support he could. He knew what it felt like when someone you cared about was being taken away in an ambulance.

One of Sam's hands went to Jeff's arm and held on, squeezing it as he watched them load Dean onto a cot. If Eric hadn't been there he knew he'd be crying but he wouldn't give that asshole the pleasure of seeing his tears. His eyes stayed locked with Dean's until they shut the ambulance doors. He looked up into Jeff's eyes. Absurdly he thought to himself that Jeff had pretty eyes, his mind going back to the talk Dean and he'd had the night before. Jeff gave him a final hug.

"He's fine Sam. They'll probably keep him for observation over night, or Bobby will take him home late today."

Sam gave a nod and a grateful look to Jeff. Jeff smiled at him. "I'll follow you to the police station. They don't have a right to question you without your parents present. Wait until one of your parents are there before making any statement, okay? I'll stay with you, or if they won't let me be beside you, I'll be there at the station. Even though you might be alone in the room, I'm there, okay? Don't let them bully you into saying anything until your parents arrive."

"I thought you said they were the good guys," Sam said, getting a little more nervous.

"They probably are, but…" he glanced back at Lancaster then returned his gaze to Sam, "better to play it safe."

Sam nodded. When the police approached and asked for a statement, Jeff shook his head. "He's not saying anything until his parents are with him."

Jeff refused to give a statement until they were at the police station because he knew they would separate him from Sam. He also said to the officer, "I'm pressing charges against him," he pointed at Adam, "for assault."

Adam's eyes grew wide and he began to sputter a protest. Jeff gave him a grim smile. "You hit me first. That's called assault." He looked at the officer. "If you're taking Sam in under arrest, then he goes too." He flicked his gaze challengingly at Eric.

* * *

Eric watched as they loaded Winchester into the ambulance and the misery written clearly on Sam’s face was satisfying to say the least. He was only disappointed that Winchester’s condition wasn’t more serious. Well, that could easily change. He would have to see what he could do about that.

Then the police arrived and Eric knew he’d take a great deal of pleasure seeing them lead the younger boy away in handcuffs. He had warned Sam before he would be sorry. Colt was just getting a taste of what he could do to him… and whoever he cared for most. If that person just happened to be Winchester… all the better.

Though when the newcomer announced he was pressing charges against Adam, Eric scowled darkly.

He was definitely going to make that bastard pay for siding with Winchester and Colt.

Eric whispered his reassurances to Adam that he would take care of it, they didn’t have a leg to stand on since Sam had stuck first and he’d come to his defense, and that he wouldn’t be at the station for even an hour. Adam was far from pleased but he grudgingly nodded. 

* * *

It was surreal, being read the Miranda Rights and feeling the cold metal bracelets being put on his wrists. It was just like TV but it wasn't. This was really happening. To him. When he was put in the back of the police cruiser he saw there weren't any handles to open the door from his compartment, and seeing the cage between himself and the cops…he didn't like it. He'd always been such a goody-two shoes and he knew it, that to be in the back of a cop car was almost beyond his belief in his own little world.

He turned his gaze on the smug senior, anger clear on his face. This was all Eric's fault. Well, he had a thing or two to tell the cops. He would accuse Eric of what he knew was the truth, that Eric hired someone to run Dean down, and when they asked why, even though his parents were there he'd tell them. Eric hated Dean because when Eric tried to rape him at the old church and Sam got away, Dean agreed to protect Sam against Eric after Eric and his boys had beaten the hell out of him the next day. Eric was pissed Sam had turned to someone he already hated. He had no proof, and he didn't figure anyone would believe him so that's why he didn't report it, but he sure as hell hadn't beaten himself up.

His parents, he knew, would be aghast that the rich kid they liked had tried to rape him. Well, maybe it would wake them up—wake his dad up to the fact Eric was a creep. While he wasn't upset that he and Dean had a relationship, the fact that he had been making out with a guy still sort of bothered him and it was Eric's fault that had happened.

Jeff watched them take Sam away and walked back to his car. It was a mess, but he was still a little pleased Sam, the kid he was supposed to be protecting, had the balls to go after the senior like he had. He wasn't some cowering little whiny shit. He didn't have enough sense to goad the target of his rage into throwing the first punch, he obviously had a lot to learn about fighting, but he had guts. Jeff wished he knew more of the details behind the mess they were all in, but maybe Bobby could fill in some of the blanks.

As he settled behind the wheel of his car and started it, he called Bobby and filled him in. He had to hold the phone away from his ear while Bobby spewed out a collection of cuss words that would make a Marine proud. When Bobby finished his rant, Jeff told him to call Bigelow.

Bigelow wasn't a hunter but a top notch lawyer in Georgia, and he knew the score after his kid was taken and killed—okay, eaten--by a hobgoblin. His marriage had fallen apart and although he was probably still young enough to start hunting, he chose to become useful to hunters in a more practical way. He helped hunters with entanglements involving the police and with other things. He had a network of people he had defended that could get hunters anything they needed in the way of weapons, and he had lawyers who he could call in favors from. He had heard the rumor the guy even had mob connections. He didn't care, he just knew the guy was useful as hell.

Normally no one went to him for something as trivial as this, but Lancaster was his own kind of evil and Jeff figured it was Bigelow worthy. He would love to see some high priced lawyer show up and defend Sam pro-bono. Maybe Sam's family didn't need the help but stringing together all the facts that he knew, he didn't figure Sam came from money and that it would shake Lancaster up a bit to discover Sam's family had connections he never guessed. When Bigelow got involved, no one served time of any sort. Period. It was almost scary what he could pull off.


	10. Chapter 10

  


  
Eric asked for permission to leave school grounds in order to go to the police station to give his statement. On the way he called his father, explained the situation, and within fifteen minutes of his arrival at the police station one of his father's lawyers was there while he gave his statement to the cops.

He told them how he and Sam Colt had met and how they had become friends. How he had helped the younger boy fit in at his new school. How everything had been going so well, and how even though Sam began asking him for things, fancy lunches, and other gifts, Eric hadn't minded providing them because he'd genuinely liked Sam. When the younger boy started making sexual advances towards him, Eric denied him, because Sam was still underage, but Eric was fully prepared to wait if that's what Sam wanted. 

He told the police that's when Sam changed. He'd taken the younger boy for a ride and Sam was all over him, and wouldn't stop no matter what Eric said or did. When he finally pushed the younger boy away Sam had gotten violent with him. He told the cops Sam had threatened to blackmail him and tell everyone that Eric had tried to rape him, and had even tried to break his legs when Eric tried to get out of the car before running away.

Despite the way Sam had acted Eric spent hours looking for Sam, afraid what might happen to the boy so far from town out on his own. He told the police he'd tried to talk to Sam the next day, but Sam had blown him off completely so Eric had let him be. At the end of the day though he heard about all the trouble Sam had been having, that he'd been beaten up by some other kids. No, he didn't know who had done it or why, but Eric had gone to Sam's house and waited for him to see if there was anything he could do to help. That was when Sam had shown up with Winchester.

Eric told the police about the trouble he and Winchester had a while back. How the older boy had assaulted him and his friends once before, and though charges had been made they'd been dropped. He told the police that he wouldn't have been surprised if Winchester had been the one to convince Sam try blackmailing him in the first place, everyone at school knew that Winchester was dangerous. Adam and Cody collaborated his story perfectly, agreeing that Sam had changed when Winchester had returned to school. 

He admitted to the police that he had been outside the restaurant that day when Winchester had almost been hit by the car. Of course he hadn't known what had happened at the time, he had just been on his way back to school from lunch when he saw the car tear out of the parking lot. The windows unfortunately were tinted and he didn't see the driver, and he didn't think to get the license number. It wasn't until the next day he learned that Winchester had been hurt. 

Despite their differences a hit and run was serious business so Eric had decided to ask Winchester about it today when he saw him at school, and that was when Sam had attacked him unprovoked. Breaking his nose, kneeing him in the crotch, and hitting him before he could even raise his hands to defend himself. Adam had tried to come to his aid and the new student, Jeff, had gotten in the middle of it. It had been purely an accident that Jeff had been hit. When Winchester tried to get in the middle of the fight, Eric had assumed he meant to attack him as well since the other senior had before, and he'd defended himself. Of course he had no idea how badly Winchester was hurt already, how could he?

Once the police finished questioning him, Eric asked that a restraining order be placed against Sam Colt and Dean Winchester, saying that he was afraid they might try to do him harm again. Once they were done with their statements they were allowed to leave, even Adam, as Eric had promised. Eric had to admit, he was quite pleased with the story he'd given the police. Hell, even he would believe it.    


* * *

A lawyer, Mr. Sanders, made it to the police station even before his parents. Mr. Sanders told Sam that he had been called in by a friend of Jeff's. He would be working Sam's case until some lawyer from out of town came in, if Mr. Sanders deemed it necessary. Sam talked with the lawyer, told him everything, even, reluctantly, that Dean and he were together and how it all happened. He told the man he didn't want his parents to know about him and Dean, not yet, and definitely not in the wake of all of this so he would rather not reveal that if he didn't have to. When he assured the lawyer that he and Dean really were together by his choice, the lawyer seemed to relax a little. He went over Sam's statement with him a few times, coaching him on what to say, what not to say, stressing even a slightly misconstrued word could be twisted.

After Sam's parents arrived, the lawyer encouraged Sam to give the statement as soon as they arrived. He didn't want Sam swayed by anything his parents said to him about the whole ordeal. As soon as the statement was submitted, Mr. Sanders informed the family he would be filing restraining orders against Eric, Adam, and Cody on behalf of both Dean and Sam. He also told them that whatever bail was set at, his firm would cover it. He was confident he could get the charges reduced to a misdemeanor and Sam would probably be required to take an anger management course and be put on probation at worse. The fact he broke Eric's nose meant the lawyer probably couldn't get the charges dropped, but he would try.

A few hours after everything was filed Sam was released to the custody of his parents. After meeting Jeff, Sam's parents drove Sam to the hospital in silence. Sam kept waiting for them to say something but he was reluctant to say a word if they weren't going to. He was just glad they were letting him see Dean fearing that they were going to take him straight home and ground him until he was forty.

Dean was still in the emergency room when Sam got there. He could see immediately that Dean was pissed and Bobby, sitting nearby, wasn't any happier.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed worriedly and rushed to his side. "Are you okay? Is your concussion any worse?" Sam wanted to at least take Dean's hand but forced himself to wrap his hands around the cold bed railing instead.  


* * *

Dean had made himself quite clear when he got to the hospital.

Stitch him up and send him home.

No, he didn't want anything more than local anesthesia while they went about stitching him back up. He knew the fucking quacks would try to put him out completely if they could, and he wouldn't let them. Yeah, it had fucking hurt when they removed the torn stitches and redid them, even with the local anesthetic, but at least he was still conscious when it was over. That meant he could leave.

Only they weren't letting him leave. Or more correctly, Bobby wasn't letting him leave.

Dean had refused to let them take any more pictures of his fucking head. Yeah, he had the fucking headache from hell, but he was fine. Even the quacks had grudgingly agreed there was probably nothing to worry about, after they'd shined a light into his eyes a half dozen times. There was no god damned reason for them to give him another damned CAT scan or MRI or whatever the fuck they wanted to do just to run up Bobby's insurance even higher than it already was. No, that wasn't the real reason why he was refusing, but it was a convienent excuse.

He was ready to leave god damn it, he wanted to go see Sam, but Bobby was being a jack ass. Not only was he not signing him out, telling him in no uncertain terms he was not going to take him to the police station, he was talking about leaving him here for the whole fucking weekend for observation while he was away on the god damned hunt! God damn it, he didn't need to be fucking babysat! He could take care of himself for fucks sake! He and Bobby had gotten into a shouting match right there in the emergency room that had lasted for a good hour until the doctors had threatened to sedate him anyway if he didn't quiet down.

Dean was actually more than a little surprised when he heard Sam's voice from the door. A look of relief passed over his features as he turned his attention away from the older hunter to Sam, though at the younger boy's question his expression quickly shifted back to one of annoyance.

"I'm fine." Dean replied, though he turned to Bobby with a glare as he said it.

* * *

"I'm not leaving you by yerself this weekend," Bobby said firmly, his nostrils practically flaring as he returned Dean's glare. "You know I have to go out of town. I can't wait another month to do this job. You can stay in the hospital a few days, watch TV and relax. It won't kill you. As soon as I get back in town I'll come here straight away to pick you up. They ain't no compromise on this, Dean. You ain't staying by yerself."

Sam could see Dean was about to argue with the old mechanic and rested his hand on his arm. "Maybe I could…" he glanced at his parents, "stay with you?"

Jim, Sam's father, shook his head. "You're not staying out there all weekend Sam—" he began, but Keiko interrupted.

"Because Dean is going to stay with us," she said.

Jim stared at his wife like she had just become covered with yellow polka-dots. "Keiko—"

"Sweetheart, I agree, Sam shouldn't be out there all weekend. If Bobby has to be out of town, Dean shouldn't be alone out there either."

Jim's gaze went from Keiko to his hopeful-eyed son, to the surly teenager his son had obviously connected with. He shook his head and sighed. With both his wife and son united on this front, he was going to lose the fight. He really didn't want Sam out at the junkyard by himself so this was a reasonable compromise he supposed. Both he and Keiko did want to get to know Dean better. The fact Sam was violent toward another person concerned them both, but after hearing what had brought it on, Jim had to admit to being a bit proud of his son, standing up for his friend like that, being unafraid after everything Eric had done. He was kicking himself for ordering Sam to 'make it right' between Eric and Sam. He should have listened to his boy. He didn't want his son being friends with someone like Eric, no matter what connections Eric could offer Sam. At this point, he wasn't sure he wanted Sam going back to that school ever again and certainly not without protection. Protection Dean apparently offered him.

"All right," Jim said, "I can see right now I'm outnumbered. If it's all right with Bobby."

Both Bobby's eyebrows practically disappeared underneath his ball cap. Sam offering to stay with Dean didn't surprise him. The Colts offering to take his boy in, did. Dean hadn't made a sterling impression on them last time. One look at Keiko and Bobby knew she was scheming. She wanted her and her husband to have a chance to get to know Dean and this was the perfect excuse. A captive audience. And Dean would be absolutely hating every minute of it. Bobby almost… _almost_ wanted to laugh.

"Up to you, son. Hospital or the Colts' house. Them's yer choices. Ain't no door number three."

"Please Dean," Sam begged. "Come stay with us." 

* * *

It was the same thing they’d been arguing about for the last hour and it really was a wonder that Bobby hadn’t had a stroke by now the way that vein in his forehead kept throbbing the way it was. Dean knew the older man was reaching the end of his patience, but he didn’t really give a shit.

Bobby knew how much he hated hospitals. But more to the point he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, god damn it! He wasn’t asking Bobby not to go on the hunt. He didn’t need a fucking babysitter. The older man was perfectly willing to leave him alone this weekend before, now was no different. So what if his stitches had been ripped, they were now fixed. So fucking what if he’d gotten hit on the head again, he wasn’t going to keel over because of that. Bobby was fucking over reacting.

He was nineteen. He could legally sign himself out of the hospital if that’s what it took, and there was nothing Bobby could do about it. He’d told Bobby if he tried to leave him here he would just check himself out and walk home, and the older hunter’s blood pressure had really gone through the roof then.

Before Dean could pick up their argument where they’d left off before the Colts had arrived, Sam spoke up, and he honestly wasn’t surprised by the younger boy’s offer. That was something Dean definitely wouldn’t mind on any occasion. Him and Sam alone without a chaperone all weekend… But Dean also knew that the younger boy’s parents would never allow it.

Just as Dean figured almost immediately Sam’s father began to protest, but Dean’s eyes practically fell out of his head when the younger boy’s mom suggested that _he_ spend the weekend at _Sam’s_. Sam’s father was looking at Sam’s mom like she was insane, and Dean had to wonder if maybe she was too. Grudgingly the man agreed though. And while Bobby seemed just as surprised as Dean by the offer initially, he agreed as well. Sam, predictably, looked pleased and hopeful by the idea.

God damn it. Now they were all staring at him waiting for his answer.

No way in hell Dean wanted to spend the weekend in suburban hell, but at the same time there was no way in hell he wanted to stay at the hospital for the whole weekend, or however long it took for Bobby to take care of the werewolf. Dean gave one more heated glare at Bobby that could have reduced a lesser man to a pile of ashes before he looked at Sam. His expression softened considerably even though it was far from happy.

“Fine.”

* * *

It took every iota of control Sam had not to lean in and kiss Dean. He settled for a grin that practically split his face in two. He squeezed Dean's arm, his face practically shining. Maybe Dean and his parents would find some common ground since Dean was going to have to deal with them for a good three or four days. Dean couldn't keep running off and hiding or avoiding them either.

Keiko smiled at Bobby. "Then it's settled. We'll take Dean home and get him settled in. If you could bring by some fresh clothes for him and toothbrush and such, that would be wonderful."

Bobby gave a sharp nod, dry-scrubbing his face. He could hardly believe Dean accepted the offer by the Colts, but he knew good and well it was Sam's plea that had swayed him. He was just relieved Dean would be watched over and he wouldn't have to worry about the boy all weekend. He could focus on the hunt, which is what he needed to do. "I'll drop his clothes off then pick up his car and tow it home. Is Sam going to school tomorrow? Will Jeff need to pick him up?"

Jim and Keiko looked at each other, seeming to hold a silent conversation between themselves. Jim finally gave a nod. "I think it would be best if Sam did go to school. He's missed a lot already."

"Who's gonna stay with Dean," Sam said, obviously upset at the idea.

"I will," Keiko said. "I'm sure Dean will be resting most of the day. I've got a lot of work to do on the computer, I'll just telecommute tomorrow. We can set Dean up in the den on the sofa sleeper. It's queen sized and should be plenty big for him. Jeff and you can come home at lunchtime so you can check on him and bring him his homework."

Sam turned back to Dean and gave a helpless shrug. "You can sleep most the day and I can set up the VCR and Playstation for you for when you're awake. If things aren't going well, maybe I'll just go half a day."

Jim walked up behind Sam and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Try to make it the day, though, okay son? You've got Jeff looking out for you, but if that's not working out, you don't hesitate to call your mom. I'll give you my cell phone for the day to keep with you. I think it's time we got you one, especially with all this going on. We'll get you one of those with a camera in it in case you need to 'document' anything."

"Really?" Sam said, shocked.

"Yes…and we'll discuss you going to another school if that's what you want. I don't know if Eric will leave you alone no matter what school you're attending though and," he gave a nod to Dean, "I'd rather you have someone who's going to look out for you. We'll take it a day at a time, okay?"

Sam nodded and turned back to Dean. "It'll be okay. I won't do anything stupid. Promise."

* * *

Sam was happy. Bobby was satisfied. Dean, however, was not happy or satisfied. Not by a long shot. In fact, he was actually rather pissed off but there wasn’t much he could do about it right now. With a choice between staying at the fucking hospital or staying at the Colts… Staying at the Colts instead of the hospital only seemed slightly less hellish because of the fact that Sam would be there.

Yeah, he’d promised Sam he’d come over _once in a while_ to try to get to know his parents, but he’d been lying at the time. This wasn’t fucking once in a while, though. This was for _days_ straight… Dean had a feeling if he didn’t want to kill them by the time this was all over they would definitely want to kill him. Bobby was the only one who’d ever put up with him for any extended length of time. He was certain eventually even Sam would get sick of him and kick him to the curb one of these days… this would probably only hasten that.

He really didn’t like the fact that it also seemed like he was going to have to go over there _now_ instead of tomorrow when Bobby, Jeff, and his Dad were leaving. He supposed he probably couldn’t blame Bobby. The older hunter probably didn’t want him ‘under foot’ and having to take care of him when he should be getting ready for the hunt. But it didn’t make Dean any happier.

Dean liked it even less when the topic changed to if Sam was going to go to school tomorrow… and apparently he was. Leaving Dean at his house _alone_ with Sam’s _mother_. Fucking great…

So, yeah, Dean was pissed and he couldn’t muster up anything more than a frown for Sam when the younger boy promised him he wouldn’t do anything ‘stupid’ tomorrow. What, like today? Oh yeah, he had a few words to share with Sam about what had happened today but he wasn’t going to share them in front of Bobby and Sam’s parents.

Dean was honestly more than a little surprised that Sam’s parents weren’t forbidding the younger boy to ever see him again considering everything that had happened. Thinking he was a ‘bad influence’, which Dean couldn’t even really deny, and blaming him for all the trouble that Sam had gotten into lately.

“Can I get the hell out of here now?” Dean finally demanded, turning back to Bobby, he was more than ready to get the fuck out of this hospital. 

* * *

"I'll get the doctor," Bobby said and headed off to find someone to get Dean signed out.

Sam found Dean's belongings in a bag. It had his wallet, cellphone, keys, and a pocket knife. Sam frowned. No t-shirt. Dean lost another t-shirt because of him. His school blazer wouldn't come close to fitting Dean and he wasn't really sure if he had any shirt that would be loose enough for him. Maybe his dad would have something at the house until Bobby arrived with Dean's things.

Sam knew his parents might think it was weird, but he was going to stay in the den with Dean tonight. He didn't want Dean having a nightmare and waking up in a strange place. That way he could check on Dean every couple hours, too. He could sleep in the recliner. He'd slept in it before and it was comfortable enough.

Using the remote control, Sam elevated the head of the bed so Dean wouldn't have to strain to get up. Bobby was back in just a minute with a nurse. Dean signed papers as did Bobby since Dean was on his insurance. Stripping off his flannel so he was just in a t-shirt, Bobby handed the flannel to Dean and they helped Dean get into it. The nurse started to hand Dean his prescription but Bobby took it. "I'll bring over what you have left. Iffen there's not enough to get you through until Monday, I'll get these filled for you and bring them when I bring your other stuff."

While Sam retrieved a wheelchair his father and mother headed out to get the car. Bobby gave Dean a stern look. "You try to be nice to them folk, for Sam's sake if nothing else. And you rest up. Don't go straining yourself. You let Sam help you do things, let them help you do things if you hafta, no matter how it hurts yer pride. You fall on your ass on the way to the bathroom or something and you'll just end up being down longer." After a moment he added quietly. "If they move Sam to another school and they're amenable to it, we'll move you too. Chafes my butt to let that rich snot win, but Sam's welfare," Bobby shook his head, "he's more important than you getting a diploma from Chalmers. I think he'll need you looking after him even at a new school. If we do switch you to a new school, I want straight A's out of you. That'll be the deal. You can follow Sam, but straight A's are the price. So, you want me to bring you anything special for while you're at the Colts?"

* * *

Dean was a bit surprised that Bobby didn’t argue with him leaving now. He half expected the older man to insist that he get another picture taken of his head, or at least stay a few more hours for ‘observation’, before he let him leave the hospital, but he didn’t. Maybe it was because Bobby was at the end of his rope with him and it was either give in or throttle him. Either that or Bobby knew that if he didn’t get him signed out Dean was going to get up and walk out by himself whether he was able to or not.

Either way, Dean really didn’t care as long as it meant he could leave.

He gave the younger boy a nod of thanks when Sam started elevating the bed up for him, but even then Dean couldn’t hide the wince of pain that just moving that little bit caused in his side. Sure, it had hurt like a bitch before, but at least it had been a clean cut then. Ripped stitches though hurt like a fucking bitch. Yes, he was going to kill that mother fucker, Eric. Or at least make the bastard wish he was dead.

At least Bobby had returned fast with the nurse and Dean signed whatever he had to get him out of here. He felt really bad as he watched Bobby signing the insurance papers. Having to go to the hospital twice in one week, and it didn’t even have to do with a hunt. Oh yeah, Lancaster, dead meat.

When Bobby took off his own shirt and then went to help him into it, Dean half wanted to protest but he couldn’t exactly walk out of here half naked, so he merely gave the older man a nod of thanks.

“All right.” Dean agreed when Bobby mentioned his prescriptions. No denying he could really go for some painkillers right about now. The older man ordering him to ‘be nice’ wasn’t much of surprise, and though he gave the older hunter a dirty look he nodded again. For Sam’s sake…

When Bobby mentioned the possibility of taking him out of that school if Sam went to another school… ok, that fucking surprised him. Especially the way Bobby had been so damned adamant that he graduate from that place. Though Dean wouldn’t deny, Sam was definitely more important to him than graduating from that place. He was just… surprised. Bobby’s comment about him getting straight A’s in return almost had Dean rolling his eyes. Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. But he and Bobby could ‘negotiate’ later if it came to that.

“How about my .45?” Dean answered Bobby’s question of if he wanted anything ‘special’. Dean wasn’t even kidding. He didn’t really like the idea of being unarmed somewhere for so long and he would be practically defenseless if something bad went down. 

* * *

Bobby hesitated. "Not without the Colts' permission. You can't just take a gun into a stranger's house. We don't know how thin of ice you're on as it stands with them. That could be the straw, Dean. Hell this weekend could be the straw that ends you and Sam being together if you're not careful."

Bobby was about to say more when Sam returned with the wheelchair. Bobby and a nurse helped ease Dean into it. Sam immediately stepped behind the chair and once the nurse left, leaned down and kissed Dean on the side of the neck. "My parents really are pretty cool. You'll see," Sam promised him. He leaned a little further around and planted a light kiss on Dean's lips. "So try to be nice."

With that Sam unlocked the brakes, picked up Dean's bag and handed it to him, then pushed Dean toward the exit, Bobby walking beside Dean. "Oh, jerkface slapped a restraining order on you and me. And my lawyer put a restraining order on jerkface and his two henchmen. Course there's the exception of when we're in classes together. Like I even ever want to get within sight of the dickwad again. On the up side, I did break his nose. The nurse at the school set it and he yelped like a girl. I'm sorry I lost it and punched him and got you in another mess."

* * *

Dean frowned. To say he wasn’t pleased was definitely an understatement. Sure, he knew it was highly unlikely something supernatural would stop by for a visit at the Colt’s just because he was there… but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. So he was going to spend the whole fucking weekend practically a sitting duck. After all ‘normal’ people didn’t salt their windows and doorways. Normal people didn’t draw discrete protection symbols on their walls or sleep with silver knives under the pillow. And Dean was going to be left with nothing but harsh language to throw at something if it attacked.

Just fucking great.

He knew Bobby was probably right. That he was on ‘thin ice’ with Sam’s parents and he’d probably been there for a while… and they didn’t even know he was fucking Sam yet. What if they did forbid Sam from seeing him? Probably not defy his parents. Not for him, the junk yard trash. Ok, so them finding a gun if they went snooping into his stuff would be bad. But Dean still didn’t like the idea of being unarmed for that long… There was a reason why he never felt safe anywhere before he came to live with Bobby, after all.

Sam returned with the wheelchair then, and Dean had to bite back several curses that would have made a sailor proud as they helped him into it. Mother fuck, that hurt. Dean took several deep breaths through his nose, trying to push back the pain and control his nausea. It would probably be a bad thing to throw up in the Colt’s car too.

The brush of the younger boy’s lips against his neck helped distract him a little from the pain at least. Though the second kiss Sam gave to his lips was far more welcome. They probably wouldn’t even be able to do that with Sam’s parents probably watching him like a hawk all weekend.

Dean couldn’t say he was really surprised to hear about the restraining orders. Not like that was going to do much good. Dean did snort a little in amusement when the younger boy said he broke Eric’s nose, even though he was still kind of pissed at Sam for the incident.

At Sam’s apology Dean leaned his head back to rest against Sam’s stomach, looking up at the younger boy.

“You owe me...” He replied. Dean would have added more to that if Bobby wasn’t standing right next to him. He’d fill in the blank for Sam later though. 

* * *

"You shouldn't have yanked me out of the way," Sam scolded him. "I might have been able to dodge. Oh, and I was chatting with one of the nurses, that redhead from the other night. She said a blond guy came in asking about you. She saw him talking to another guy who works there, so it's a good bet he knew exactly what your injuries were, if him hitting you where he did didn't already prove it."

When they got outside Keiko had the passenger's door open for Dean. "It's easiest to get in and out of the front seat, trust me. I'll hold the door steady. Sam you pull the chair out of Bobby's way once Dean's standing. Jim will help you from inside. The more we can ease you in, the less likely you'll tug on those stitches." See his look she cocked and eyebrow out him. "No, I know you're not an invalid, but I also know how much stitches in your side hurt. I have the scars to prove it."

With careful orchestration they got Dean settled into the front seat. Sam rolled the wheelchair back to the waiting nurse. While he did that, Bobby pulled Keiko aside.

"Dean's not use to be unarmed," he said softly. "He was wondering if you'd permit me to bring him his gun."

Keiko stared at Bobby a moment then after a sigh finally gave a nod. "All right. I understand. Nothing bigger than a 9-mm though, it has to have a working safety that is on, and I'd rather Sam didn't know."

Bobby eyed her with surprise. She smiled tolerantly at him. "I know what you do Bobby. What I assume Dean does. Sam doesn't need to know about such things. Not yet. I will…eventually tell him since he will become caretaker of the Bow of the Golden Dragon. But I want him to keep his innocence a while longer. It's a terrible burden, that knowledge." She suddenly broke into a broader smile, her eyes shifting to her approaching son. "Let's get Dean home."

Bobby gave a nod, taking in what she had just revealed. So she knew about hunting. Had she hunted in her youth? He wondered and definitely would pursue such questions at a later time. Bobby leaned in to Dean. "I'll see you in a bit."

He shut the door to the SAAB and headed for the tow truck.

When the Colts were settled in the car, Keiko asked Dean, "Do you feel up to eating Dean? We can pick up fast food if your hungry now, or I can make something when we home. What sounds good?"

* * *

Sam just didn’t get it. How was Dean supposed to just stand there and do nothing? Just let Eric hurt Sam again after everything that bastard had already done to the younger boy? Maybe Sam could have dodged. Maybe Jeff could have taken care of all three of the bastards. But Dean still couldn’t have just stood there and done nothing. Dean was still kicking himself over the last time Sam had trusted him to protect him and Dean hadn’t been there. He wasn’t going to let that happen again, damn it. Dean certainly wasn’t going to let something happen to Sam when he was standing _right there_. If there was anything he could do to stop it.

When Sam mentioned his hot nurse possibly seeing Lancaster at the hospital asking about him… no, that wasn’t much of a surprise to him. Dean knew it wasn’t just ‘luck’ that had let that son of a bitch hit him where he knew it would bring him down. He could just imagine how the prick was probably bragging how he’d taken him out all by himself…

His thoughts of just exactly how he was going to make Eric pay for that were cut off when they made it outside where Sam’s parent’s car was waiting for them. Though Dean frowned in displeasure as Sam’s mom described how they were going to maneuver him into the car rather than let him do it for himself, he held his tongue. What made it worse was it turned out he needed every bit of help getting settled into the front seat.

God damn it.

“Yeah.” Dean muttered unhappily when Bobby said his goodbye… on to suburban hell.

When Sam’s mom asked him if he were hungry, Dean shook his head. He was too damned nauseous, his head hurt too fucking much, and he was too tired to even think about eating right now. He wondered if they would think he was just being ‘difficult’ if he refused. Probably. Too bad.

“I’m not hungry.” 

* * *

"I'm not surprised," Keiko said, seeing how pale the young man looked. "Then we'll pick up some fast food and I'll make some stew for dinner. Maybe after you get some pain medicine in you and some sleep you'll feel up to eating. We can always go with soup if stew doesn't sound good. Jim why don't we pick up some fried chicken. That way if Dean decides it smells good and thinks he can keep it down they'll be plenty of extra."

It wasn't long before they had gotten their food which Keiko made her husband put in the egg crate in the trunk so Dean wouldn't have to smell it until they got home. When they got to the Colts' house Keiko took the food in and got the sofa bed pulled out and quickly tucked a sheet over the mattress. Though Sam wanted to help Dean to his feet, his father interceded.

"I'm stronger, Sam. He needs a good steady arm to help him up. As soon as he's up you help steady him on his left. Don't worry about the car door. I'll come back out and close it."

Jim gently helped support Dean to his feet. "There's no rush walking in. Take your time Dean. The last thing you need is to throw up or even to trip. Sam, give him your arm to steady himself with."

The three walked slowly inside and Dean was guided to the sleeper sofa. Keiko already had pillows there and a blanket. Jim and Sam helped Dean sit down on it.

"I got him from here Dad," Sam said.

Jim straightened and gave a nod. "Okay, then I'll go help your mother. After you get him settled, come out and eat, then you can come back in and sit with him. I'll get the playstation and such ready to move in here for you boys. Dean, if you think you're up to eating, Sam can bring you in a plate. We have fried chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and apple pie. We've got soda, ice tea or lemonade to drink. And water of course."

"Thanks Dad," Sam said sincerely.

Jim gave a nod to the boys and headed out. Sam promptly went to work removing Dean's boots.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked as he got the first boot off. 

* * *

Dean didn’t comment, pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to, as Sam’s mother went on discussing possible dinner arrangements for her family. Stew or soup? What the hell was the difference anyway? The chicken did sound good, at least it would have if the thought of putting anything in his mouth right now didn’t make him nauseous.

He wished they would have let him sit in the back. At least that way he might have been able to talk quietly with the younger boy. Instead he merely stared out the windshield, until he realized that was only making his nausea worse and dropped his gaze to his lap instead. He really hoped he didn’t throw up all over himself, that would be embarrassing, to say the least and Dean had enough wounds to his pride today.

At last they reached the Colt’s house. Dean never thought he’d be ‘glad’ to see it, and he wasn’t really now, he was just glad to get out of the moving car. Almost as soon as they stopped Dean had the door open, and a few seconds later Sam was there… then Sam’s father… to help him out of the car. Dean wished he could deny that he needed any help from the older man, but he couldn’t even kid himself considering how much help he’d needed just getting him into the car at the hospital.

Getting out of the car and walking into Sam’s house proved just as unpleasant as he’d thought it would be, even with the help. Christ, he felt like he was nine hundred years old or something. By the time Sam and his father deposited him on the pull out bed Dean could feel his muscles trembling a little and sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

Dean was really glad when Sam said he’d take over from there, and it was all he could do not to flop back on the bed. Only the knowledge of how much that would probably hurt prevented him from doing just that.

“Just peachy.” Dean muttered at Sam’s question, resting a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder to keep himself steady as Sam tugged his shoe off.

* * *

"That good huh?" Sam said. Carefully undoing the other boot's laces he pulled it off as gently as possible. "Mom makes really good stew, I hope you feel like eating by then, but she'll make plenty for leftovers. Or there'll be leftover chicken if that sounds better. I'm sure she'll make homemade bread with the stew and there's just nothing more awesome." Sam adjusted the pillows so Dean's head and upper back would be a little elevated. He could tell Dean was definitely wavering feeling Dean's hand periodically tightening on his shoulder to help his keep his balance.

Wrapping his arm around Dean's back, he helped Dean lay back slowly, making sure he was supporting all the weight Dean would let him support. As soon as Dean was down, Sam fussed over him a little, making certain the pillows were adjusted right, that his shirt wasn't uncomfortable crumpled under him, all the while moving with the utmost care so as not to jostle the older teen. He pulled the light flannel blanket his mom had gotten out. He was afraid the sheet would be too light and the quilt too heavy. Pausing a moment to listen, then confident both his parents were in the kitchen, he leaned down and kissed Dean.

"I'm going to get a damp washcloth for your face and get you some water with a straw. And a bucket in case you get too nauseous. Did you want me to make you up a little snack plate? Maybe just a couple bites of chicken and a spoonful of mashed potatoes and a bite or two of pie? Does that sound like a good idea or a really bad idea? Should I have Mom make you up some Jello? It would be ready in a couple hours if that sounds good instead."

* * *

Dean merely grunted in reply as Sam went about tugging off his other boot, fixing his pillows, and finally helped him lay down. He hated needing the younger boy’s help for doing something so simple. Getting up again was going to be a royal bitch, he could tell. Sam had to support nearly all his weight going down just so he wouldn’t fall back against the pillows and pull at his newly stitched up side.

Which meant that he was probably going to need help getting up to go to the bathroom too… Just fucking great. Maybe he would feel better once he was loaded up on painkillers again. He could hope at least.

Sam was acting all mother hen, which under other circumstances would probably have annoyed him to hell but Dean didn’t really mind it right now. He let the younger boy fuss over him without complaint and smiled a little when Sam leaned in to kiss him when he was done. Though the smile slipped off his face again quickly when he remembered just where they were and what could happen if Sam’s parents saw them together like that.

He really needed to talk to Sam about that, but now wasn’t the time and he was too damned tired anyway. Besides, it would be just as bad if Sam’s parents overheard that conversation if they actually caught them kissing.

Dean nodded when Sam said he was going to bring him a washcloth and some water, though considering how he didn’t really want to get up any time soon maybe he’d skip the water for the time being. The bucket wasn’t a bad idea, though he was feeling a little less nauseous now that he wasn’t in the moving car anymore and laying down again.

“Ask me again after I’m doped up.” Dean answered. He knew he probably would get hungry eventually, considering he hadn’t had breakfast today yet either, but just not so much right now. 

* * *

"Okay, Dopey," Sam said teasingly. "I'll be right back."

Sam retrieved the promised items, Keiko also sending in just a bowl of ice in case Dean would rather just have some ice to suck on to keep his mouth from drying out, but didn't want to actually drink water from fear of puking it right back up. She also put some saltines on a plate for Dean again, as something to nibble on that shouldn't upset his stomach. Sam set the stuff on the end table so it was within easy reach. After Sam wiped down Dean's face, he patted it dry with a towel. Just then, Sam's stomach rumbled loudly.

Giving Dean an embarrassed shrug he said, "I'm kinda hungry."

Sam's father walked in just then with a small beat up boom box. "Sammy said you and I have the same taste in music. I thought maybe you'd like to listen to some." He slipped in a mix tape of seventies hard rock and turned the volume low but didn't actually start the tape. "This is a bunch of my favorites that I listen to out in the garage. With your head hurting, I wasn't sure if you'd want any noise at all, but I thought I'd bring it in anyhow. Sam, your lunch is getting cold. Dean do you need anything else before I chase my son off to eat? Don't worry, he inhales better than the sweeper. He'll probably back in here in under ten minutes. Are you warm enough? Want me to close the drapes? Anything?"

* * *

“You’re Dopey.” Dean replied to the younger boy’s retreating back, his eyes following Sam till he was out of sight, then he sighed heavily.

Christ, he didn’t want to be here. Bobby could be such a stubborn ass sometimes. Ok, fine, he was having a little bit of trouble getting around today. But he would be better by tomorrow. At least he’d be able to make it to the bathroom and kitchen on his own if he needed to, he was sure. There was no reason why he couldn’t be home now instead of here.

Maybe he could convince Sam to have one of his parents take him home tomorrow, after he was sure Bobby was gone on the hunt. Bobby would rip him a new one if he showed up at home before the older hunter had gone. Hell, he’d probably rip him a new one when he got back, but at least by then he couldn’t send him back to the hospital or something.

Dean looked at the tray of stuff Sam brought back with a slightly raised eyebrow. Water, ice, and crackers… he said he wasn’t hungry, damn it. How hard was it to understand that? Though he couldn’t deny the cloth Sam wiped his face down with felt kind of good. Dean chuckled a little when he heard Sam’s stomach though he went quiet again when he heard Sam’s father walk into the room.

“I’m fine.” Dean answered both Sam’s father and the younger boy, giving Sam a nod. 

* * *

"Don't hesitate to speak up," Jim said, as he chased Sam out of the room. He paused at the doorway and added. "I'll tack up a sheet over the door for you if you'd like. I'm sure you're used to privacy and this has to," Jim looked around and shrugged, "well, suck on more levels than I can probably imagine. Don't go straining yourself trying to get something, either. You've got three temporary servants that will cater to almost any whim."

Jim gave him a smile then headed out to the kitchen.

Settling at the table, the three said a quick grace then began eating.

"You and Dean really seem to have connected," Jim said.

Sam nodded and hurriedly swallowed. "He's…cool. Kinda got a short temper."

"Apparently longer than yours," Keiko observed.

Wincing, Sam protested, "Lancaster had it coming. You heard what I told the cops."

"And you should have told us from the beginning what was going on," Jim said, a sternness coming into his voice. "I understand, you were…embarrassed. I don't know what I would have done if someone had done that to me when I was your age."

"You'd have ended up in jail," Keiko said. "You kept that switchblade on you at all times."

Sam's eyes widened. "Dad?"

Jim cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I grew up in a rough neighborhood." He glared at Keiko who smiled sweetly at him.

"Your father was not always the yuppie he's turned into today. He did a lot of things in his misspent youth that would make your toes curl."

Jim gave a long suffering sigh. "You spent too much time talking with Chester."

"Chester?" Sam piped up.

"Yes, one of the guys I ran with. Mom insisted I get an education and my only option was the army. Chester, the idiot, joined up with me. God we nearly got booted half a dozen times, I swear. I was in Vietnam for six months when I got shot and sent home. Chester," Jim shook his head, "went career. I think he just liked bossing people around. He visited me in college a couple times and actually set me up on the blind date with your mother."

Keiko grinned at Sam mischievously. "I demanded to know everything about the guy my friend's boyfriend was setting me up with. I learned all sort of blackmail worthy material."

"Like what?" Sam asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

"Things you don't need to know about until you're older. Like seventy or something," Jim said, scowling at his wife.

"How come I've never met him?"

"Car accident. He died," Jim said simply. "Finish eating. I have a feeling your stubborn friend in there won't ask for help for anything."

"Probably not," Sam nodded and polished off his lunch quickly, but wished he could have gotten to hear more about his father's earlier life. He knew very little about either of his parents early lives, really. They both kept pretty tight lipped about things.

By the time he got back into Dean, Dean was already asleep. Sam picked a book off the shelf, settled into the recliner, and began to read.  


* * *

  


Dean merely nodded but he frowned after the older man after he and Sam left. Temporary servants… yeah right. Like they actually _wanted_ him here or something. Wanted something from him? Maybe. He just wasn't sure what yet.

Maybe they wanted to interrogate him about what was going on with Lancaster and Sam. He supposed that was understandable, given what had happened. Dean knew Sam hadn't told them the truth before, and he wasn't sure what Sam had told his parents now, so it was probably best he didn't say anything about it for more than one reason.

Maybe they just wanted to figure out how much of a scumbag he was. Just how much of a 'bad influence' he was on their darling Son… more than they knew. Maybe they suspected? He and Sam would have to be very careful in that case. The last thing Dean needed was to get slapped with a statutory rape charge. But more than that, he didn't want them to try to keep Sam and him apart. Since Dean wasn't all that certain he meant enough to Sam for the younger boy to want to defy his parents to see him… and Dean wanted to keep seeing Sam.

Now that he was laying here without any distractions Dean felt his thoughts starting to grow sluggish and his eyes heavy. Despite the pain he was in, his body was just too exhausted by everything to stay awake. Before he knew it he was asleep.

Just as Dean figured, almost as soon as his eyes closed the dreams started.

*

_He wasn't safe._

_He was three years old again. Small and defenseless in the dark house that should have been safe but it wasn't. His mommy was gone. His daddy was gone. But they weren't alone. The yellow eyed man. He was there. He was coming… he was coming… Dean tried to get out, to run, but there was nothing but darkness, smoke, and heat. He couldn't get out of the house. None of the doors opened. They were trapped. Sammy was crying… so loud… and he couldn't get out._

__  


* * *

Sam hadn't much more than opened the book when he heard small sounds coming from Dean and he could tell Dean was having his nightmares again. He wondered if it was yellow eyes—Azazel—again. Pushing himself out of the chair he set the book on the end table as he went to Dean's side and took his head.

"Dean it's okay, I'm right here, I'm right here," he soothed, hoping to pull Dean out of his nightmare without actually waking him. "Sam's here. I'll keep you safe. Yellow-eyes can't get you. I won't let him." Sam crooned over and over to Dean but it didn't seem to help. Glancing at the doorway first, he turned back to Dean and planted a kiss on his lips. "You're safe," he said again. "Safe. It's Sam, right here. Safe." Still nothing. He shook Dean lightly. "C'mon, wake up Dean. You're okay. You're okay. Wake up."

Sam was beginning to get worried. How hard could it be to wake up someone from a nightmare? "Dean!" Sam said sharply. "Wake up! Come on!"

Hearing Sam's sharp voice had Keiko at the door almost immediately. "Sam?"

"He's having a nightmare. He won't wake up," Sam said, shaking Dean a little harder.

Keiko came in and gently took Sam's arm and pulled him aside. "Sweetheart, go up to your room and get that necklace, the one with the leather bag, the one I put on you when your nightmares are bad."

"But—"

"Do it," she snapped at him. It was probably just a nightmare. Dean was a hunter who had just gotten his ass kicked. She wasn't surprised he was having a nightmare she supposed. Maybe it was just a run of the mill nightmare, but when was anything run of the mill for hunters? She took the damp rag sitting near by and began wiping Dean's face down as she began singing softly in Japanese. She had no idea if it would comfort Dean as it did Sam, after all, she had been doing it for Sam ever since they had adopted him when he was eight months old. He had apparently been 'adopted' out twice before but had been a problem baby, always crying, having endless nightmares. What sort of parent would adopt a child and after not being able to calm their child just toss him back into the system? Admittedly it had taken them two months to get Sam to start acting like a normal baby and Keiko had had to resort to some old spells her family knew to soothe his dreams and protect him from his nightmares. He still had them, but they went from every time he closed his eyes to every night, to every week, to only occasionally.

When Sam returned, she draped the hex bag over Dean's neck and started the dream protection spell.

Sam started to tell her how embarrassed and angry Dean would be if he woke up and she was there because he knew Dean would be crying but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt. Sam could already see the tears spilling down Dean's cheeks. She motioned Sam to move on the bed beside Dean. She reached out and took Sam's hand and put it on Dean's, then gave Sam the indication to join her in the 'song' that she knew Sam knew by heart because she'd heard him sing it to himself sometimes at night when he was upset and was trying to get to sleep.

Blinking at her in momentary confusion—did she already know he and Dean were together, he wondered worriedly—he settled beside Dean and took his hand and after listening to where his mother was in the song, joined in. Dean's nightmare seemed to be easing finally, his breathes coming in less frantic gasps.

Keiko was torn. She knew the two boys had become close friends, but she didn't know if they would be awkward with each other if she left now. Should she send Sam away? Dean wasn't at all comfortable around her or her husband and this might only make it worse if Sam wasn't there and she was. Reluctantly she decided Dean would do better waking up with just Sam there. She motioned for Sam to keep singing as she rose gracefully to her feet.

"I'll embarrass him," she said softly. "Keep singing, Sam. If he doesn't wake up in just a minute, try to wake him again, even if the nightmare seems gone." She ran the cloth over Dean's face a final time, wiping away the tears, her heart clenching as it always did when Sam was like this. She ran a comforting hand along Dean's cheek and through his now sweat drenched locks. Leaving the room she stayed just outside the door, listening, making sure Dean was going to wake up. With the remnants of the concussion, if Dean didn't wake, they might have to take him back to the hospital.

* * *

  
_Dean had run, and run, and finally hid. Squeezing himself into the little space under his parent’s bed where he sometimes hid when playing hide and seek with his daddy. Of course his daddy always found him and that thought was terrifying right now because what if the yellow eyed man found him too? But he didn’t know where else to go or where to hide. Though it probably didn’t matter. Sammy was still crying in his arms, hiccupping a little even as Dean tried to quiet him. Dean tried to be quiet as well but it was hard to stop himself from coughing because of the black smoke that hung in the air even underneath the bed._

_In the back of his mind Dean knew it hadn’t happened like this. Sixteen years ago there’d been the fire, the smoke, and the yellow eyed man but Dean had managed to get out of the house. He’d managed to save Sammy even though his mom and dad had been killed in the fire. He knew this wasn’t real, just a dream… but at the same time it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real._

_The smoke felt real as it choked his lungs and made his eyes tear up. The heat from the fire all around them felt real, especially where it had burned him a few times when he’d tried to avoid it. The loud thumping footsteps growing closer sounded real… his fear hearing those steps was definitely real. Sounding like his father’s heavy steps but Dean knew it wasn’t his father._

_Dean closed his eyes and hugged his crying baby brother close to him. He couldn’t let him get Sammy…_

_His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for the yellow eyed man to find them. To grab him and pull him from the ‘safety’ of his hiding place. To try to tear his baby brother out of his arms… but it didn’t happen. He kept waiting for it, fearing it was going to happen, but even as he waited he realized his frantic breaths were coming a little easier. The smoke cleared and the roar of the flames was not quite as loud… until they were finally gone._

_It was then he heard something else. A soft sound… like music… humming… but he didn’t recognize the song. When Dean finally dared to open his eyes he found he was in his bed. It was dark but the nightlight was on, shining brightly, its protective glow comforting. The sound was coming from outside his room and while one part of him was terrified that if he moved the flames and the yellow eyed man would return, the music sounded so… peaceful._

_Slowly he climbed out of bed and tiptoed to his baby brother’s room, where he realized the singing was coming from. Shoring up what little courage he had, Dean peaked around the door into the room, but there were no orange flames or blood as he’d feared there would be… just his mother holding baby Sammy in the rocking chair singing. She looked up at him and smiled, motioning him inside and while at first Dean hesitated he found himself obeying. Every step less and less fearful that the bad dream would return, until finally he climbed into his mother’s lap and she shifted so that he could hold baby Sammy too while she sung them both to sleep._

*

It was a little strange to go to sleep in a dream… and wake up, Dean decided. He wasn’t sure how much of his confusion was from the dream itself or the fact that when he opened his eyes he didn’t recognize where he was… or that he still heard singing. When Dean’s eyes fell on Sam they cleared a little slowly but it didn’t take long for him to remember where he was after that.

The fact that Sam had apparently been singing to him… ok that was a little on the weird side… was that Japanese? Probably something his mom had taught him then. The younger boy also looked worried as hell. Christ, the nightmare must have been bad enough Sam noticed it, which he supposed wasn’t all that surprising. Dean hoped he hadn’t started screaming in his sleep or anything.

Dean rubbed at his damp face and silently cursed.

“Sorry.” He finally mumbled softly. 

* * *

When Dean's eyes slowly cracked open Sam could tell Dean was barely awake. Not wanting Dean to just fall asleep again and back into his nightmares, he kept up the singing until the young man's eyes finally began to clear and Sam stopped his song, knowing Dean was awake now, more or less. He couldn't believe the relief that filled practically every fiber in him. Dean was okay. When Dean apologized, Sam heaved a sigh and hugged Dean.

"'S'okay. I get bad nightmare too." He straightened and found tears on his own face which he hastily wiped away. "I was afraid you weren't going to…I tried to wake you up and I couldn't." Hesitantly he added, "Mom heard and came in. She had me get the dream bag." He lightly touched the leather bag around Dean's neck. "And she helped me start singing the dream song to you. She didn't want…she didn't want to embarrass you so she left."

Sam couldn't help himself and hugged Dean again. "I hate my nightmares. They suck. Mom's song always helps and makes them go away, makes me feel safe again." He released Dean. "Course the last thing I want to do is go back to sleep even with her song and the dream bag." He took the damp wash cloth and wiped Dean's neck and chest down a little, then wiped the sweat off Dean's forehead and face as he continued to talk. "I could get a game. Yahtzee or scrabble or cards or something." He leaned in and whispered, "But no strip poker because that would just be awkward if my parents came in." He grinned at Dean. "We could do playstation or I could put in a movie. We've got Star Wars or The Princess Bride, or Robin Hood. My dad likes Clint Eastwood so we have a bunch of his westerns. Got some Bruce Lee movies and some monster movies. Mom likes the classic monster movies. They usually make her laugh. I've got a couple Star Trek episodes too. Anything sound good?"

* * *

Dean was a bit surprised by the unexpected hug, but he couldn’t say it was unwelcome. In fact it was just the opposite. Even though it embarrassed the hell out of him that he could still be reduced to fucking tears every time he had one of these nightmares, Dean couldn’t deny that he needed this. When Bobby had first held him after one of his nightmares, promising him that he was safe, it was the first time Dean had really believed it. Sometimes the older man still hugged him after a particularly bad nightmare and it made him feel just as safe as it did then. Oddly enough, Dean felt safe now… in Sam’s arms. Which was kind of weird, all things considered, because wasn’t he supposed to be keeping Sam safe not the other way around?

The older boy sighed and slipped his arms loosely around Sam’s waist, probably the only reason he didn’t hold onto the younger boy tighter was because he was so fucking bruised up. Almost reluctantly he let Sam pull away when he did and nodded a little when Sam mentioned his own nightmares. Yeah, if anyone would understand it was Sam. If Sam’s nightmares were as bad as his… about yellow eyes.

A slight chill ran down Dean’s spine remembering the discussion he and Sam had at lunch before he’d been hit by the car. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? That they both had horrible dreams about yellow eyes… or maybe it was. A lot of monsters in movies had yellow eyes, it wasn’t unique or anything. Sam couldn’t possibly be dreaming about the same demon… not a real one anyway… Dean’s mind was just going to weird places because he was exhausted and freaked out. It didn’t mean anything…

Seeing Sam wipe away his own tears as he explained how he’d tried to wake him up made Dean’s heart clench a little. Damn. He’d really freaked Sam out. Dean started to apologize again, when Sam started talking about the ‘dream bag’ and his attention turned to the little leather pouch resting against his chest. Sam’s mom had seen his nightmare too? Just fucking great… but what the hell was this thing? It looked like a hex bag and the ‘song’ that Sam had been singing…

Magic? Was Sam’s mom some kind of witch or something? But if she was surely she would know what the bow was she had… and the protection symbols they had all over Bobby’s house, not to mention the books… Dean really wished that he’d learned more Japanese now, but Latin had been bad enough. Maybe he could get Sam to repeat the ‘song’ to Bobby and the older hunter would know what it meant. Though the spell, if that’s what it was, had seemed to help his dream… Dean just didn’t trust magic in general.

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts when Sam hugged him again, and Dean gave the younger boy another gentle squeeze before he let him go again. Offering the younger boy as reassuring a smile he could manage. Sam was definitely right about one thing, going back to sleep, was about the last thing on his mind even as exhausted as he still was. Hell, he couldn’t have been asleep for more than ten minutes or so. But he didn’t want to fall back into that dream, it had been one of the worst he’d had in a while… not surprising.

A game might have been a good distraction, but Dean knew he’d never be able to concentrate enough to play it. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly when Sam said no strip poker. Yeah, it wouldn’t have been very fun anyway, since Dean would probably lose. A movie sounded pretty good though. Something he didn’t have to concentrate too much on, but would probably still keep him awake. Dean usually enjoyed watching classic monster movies a lot, they made him laugh and Bobby just rolled his eyes. He could use a laugh right about now… though his side might protest, so maybe not.

“Star Wars?” Dean finally answered, since it was the first thing Sam had mentioned. 

* * *

"Star Wars it is," Sam said grinning. He eased himself off the bed so as not to jostle Dean. "Be right back!"

Sam strode out of the den. "Hey, Dad, we want to watch a couple movies. Can you help me with the VCR?"

"Yes, just a minute," he called back to his son. Sam poked his head in the living room and saw his father was on the phone and winced. His dad was probably dealing with something at work. A moment or two of listening, his suspicion was confirmed. As soon as his father got off the phone, the two moved the entertainment center away from the wall. Sam squirmed behind it and unplugged equipment then began unhooking the VCR.

"You're not in trouble or anything because of me are you Dad?"

Jim laughed but there was frustration in his tone. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"Dad?" Sam said, pausing.

The man sighed. "We lost an account. I'd landed a big account soon after you started school. Been working my ass off on it. They decided today to go elsewhere, said they weren't happy with my work. Probably wrecks my shot at that promotion."

"That sucks…think is has anything to do with…Lancaster?" Sam asked as he reconnected all the cables and shoved the VCR's plug through the hole in the back of the entertainment center.

After a moment of silence Jim said, "Yes. I think he's the reason I got the account in the first place. I would guess they pulled out since you and he are no longer 'friends' and after what happened today."

"I screw up good when I screw up," Sam said. "I'm sorry."

Jim pulled the VCR off the shelf, carefully gathering the cables. "I'm glad to be rid of the account, honestly. The company was going to start sending me on business travel and I was already putting in a lot of extra time because of it. If things kept up the way they were headed, I wouldn't have been home in the evenings or weekends most of the time. And you and your mom are more important than work."

Sam crawled out and they moved the entertainment center back up against the wall. "You think maybe that was so you wouldn't be around for me?"

Shrugging, Jim said, "A few weeks ago I would have said you were being ridiculous. Now…now I don't know. Don't worry about it, Sam. Even if I lose the promotion, I'm not losing my job."

"The Lancasters have a lot of power though. You know they do," Sam said as he grabbed a couple movies from the shelf.

Jim gave him a smile. "Don't you underestimate a poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks. If I have to, I'll just call up one of my sniper buddies from the army."

Sam gaped at his father.

"I'm joking Sammy," Jim said rolling his eyes. "I know we've tried to always keep you safe but we never meant to keep you naïve," he said as he walked into the den with the VCR.

"I'm not naïve!" Sam protested, glancing briefly at Dean as he helped his father get the VCR hooked up.

Snorting Jim shook his head and leaned in close to Sam, whispering. "Then don't hide your porn magazines where your mother can find them. Try someplace other than beneath the mattress next time."

Eyes wide in horror, Sam felt the blush practically explode on his face. "Daran gave those to me! Mom," he squeaked, "found them?"

Jim plugged in the VCR and slapped Sam on the shoulder, laughing at his son's embarrassment. "Yes. I'll leave you boys to your movies."

After giving a nod to Dean, Sam's father left the room, still chuckling.

Focusing on the TV and VCR, Sam fumbled with the tape and finally got it in and started. Taking a deep breath he turned back to face Dean. His face didn't feel quite so red at this point. He grabbed one of the cushions from the sofa and got on the bed beside Dean, using the cushion to lean up against. "Parents," he muttered, "can be a pain."

* * *

Dean nodded and watched Sam leave the room, sighing softly once the younger boy was out of sight. He really hoped that Bobby took care of his car and got here with his prescription soon. At the same time, the pills would probably put him right back to sleep once he took them, so maybe that wouldn’t be a good thing in the long run.

He glanced back down at the hex bag, since he was pretty sure that’s exactly what it was, that was around his neck. After a moment Dean carefully removed it and tossed it over on the side table, eyeing it distrustfully. If Bobby didn’t have the damn werewolf hunt to worry about he probably would have discretely asked the older man to find out just what was in that bag. Maybe Dean would swipe it when he left and show it to the older hunter after Bobby got back from the hunt.

Dean’s eyes began getting heavy again even before Sam was gone five minutes and he silently cursed. He shouldn’t be having this hard of a time just staying awake, god damn it.

He heard Sam’s father’s voice approach before he heard Sam and Dean raised an eyebrow a bit catching only half the conversation… though he certainly didn’t miss the younger boy’s rather loud protest. Dean snorted softly at that, and couldn’t help but laugh seeing the bright flush and look of absolute horror that crossed the younger boy’s face. Damn, he really wished he knew what Sam’s dad had whispered to the younger boy. Sam looked like he was about to burst into flames.

Dean was still grinning in amusement when Sam finished setting up the VCR and came back over to lay next to him.

“Yeah… but you’re cute when you blush.” Dean replied, winking at Sam. 

* * *

Dean's comment brought the blush straight back to Sam face and Sam thumped him lightly in the arm, not wanting to jar him but still wanting to thump him. "Jerk. You are too, you know," he harrumphed. Looking down, he realized he was still in the school uniform except for the blazer that was out in the living room.

"I'll be right back," Sam said and got off the bed. He to his room, stripping off his shirt as he went. He slid off his pants and jumped into sweats, pulling on the t-shift on his way back to the den. He resettled next to Dean.

"There. Much better," Sam said contentedly. He slid his hand into Dean's and squeezed it lightly as Princess Leia loaded R2D2 with her message.

* * *

Dean chuckled as Sam started turning bright red again and only grinned more when Sam hit him lightly on the arm. He had a feeling if he wasn’t laid up, Sam would have hit him a lot harder.

When Sam got up again suddenly after just settling down Dean raised an eyebrow. The movie was starting though so at least he had that to focus on while the younger boy was away. When Sam finally returned Dean had to admit he approved of the change. Dean nodded in agreement.

“Much better.” Dean said.

When Sam took his hand Dean smiled a little and gave the younger boy’s hand a slight squeeze.

After they were watching the movie for a while he realized he had started tracing the inside of Sam’s wrist with his fingers. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it, but once he did he didn’t stop. 

* * *

Sam was enjoying the movie; he hadn't seen it in awhile. His mom didn't really like sci-fi, but his dad did, so it was usually a father-son thing when his mom was doing something else that evening and his dad wasn't busy with work or something. Family movie night hadn't happened in awhile and he kind of missed it, though they still tried to play games once a week. Sam was drawn out of the movie, a little surprised when he felt Dean's fingers drifting over his wrist. Glancing at Dean from the corner of his eye he got the impression Dean wasn't really thinking about what he was doing and that made him smile. If Dean wasn't hurt Sam suspected he would encourage more, though if Dean wasn't hurt, Dean's hand wouldn't just be caressing his wrist he'd bet. They probably wouldn't be watching much of the movie, either.

Since there was no door and his parents were just a few rooms away, Sam decided it was probably best he didn't encourage anything more. Being in the basement while his parents were outside was one thing. Them in the next room…no, he didn't want to get caught making out with Dean, and he especially didn't want them finding out he and Dean were together by walking in on them.

Although he was able to enjoy the light caresses for what they were, his body was taking a little more hopeful interest. He also couldn't deny enjoying laying next to Dean. He found himself moving a little closer to Dean though he would vehemently deny they were doing anything like snuggling. Snuggling meant an arm over a shoulder or around a waist and a head on a shoulder or resting against a chest. He shifted and lightly pressed his thigh against Dean.

 

* * *

When Dean felt Sam shift closer to him, felt the brush of the younger boy’s thigh against his own, he smiled. Turning his attention away from the movie, not like he hadn’t seen it a hundred times before anyway, and fully on Sam. Besides, Dean hadn’t had a crush on Princess Leia since he was thirteen anyway.

Though Sam’s eyes were focused on the screen, he didn’t seem all that engrossed with the movie either. Dean smiled to himself. How often did he take the time to just _look_ at Sam? Sure, he’d done plenty of admiring but he was often distracted from just looking at the younger boy by the desire to touch and kiss him.

Not that Dean didn’t want that now, to make out with the younger boy, but given the fact that Sam’s parents could walk in on them any second and that he was too damned sore to do much anyway. Yeah, wasn’t going to happen.

Still, Dean’s hand kind of had a mind of its own he found as it shifted from the younger boy’s wrist down to rest on Sam’s thigh instead. Well… at least the blanket kind of hid what he was doing when he started caressing Sam’s thigh lightly instead. 

* * *

Sam gave Dean a sidelong glance when he felt Dean's hand on his thigh, and found himself staring into almost mischievous green eyes.

"You are so going to get us caught," Sam scolded him softly. He squeezed high on Dean's inner thigh once, and leaned in and gave Dean a quick kiss that included a swipe of his tongue across Dean's lips. Using the kiss as a distraction he laced his fingers with Dean's hand that had been on his thigh before Dean could retaliate in kind. He sat back, a smug smirk on his lips. "So behave."

* * *

The look Sam gave him had Dean smirking in spite of himself.

Then Sam’s hand was sliding against his inner thigh, giving the muscle there a squeeze which seemed to go straight to his cock, and despite the fact that he felt like hammered shit, his dick twitched a little in interest. Damn it. It just wasn’t fair how much control this boy had over him, really. Talk about wrapped around his little finger. If Sam gave him the right look, or just one touch, the younger boy had him practically begging for more.

Dean couldn’t help but wonder if Sam knew that as the younger boy leaned in to kiss him, the soft moan that escaped his lips becoming lost between them. If Sam did… then Dean was definitely in trouble. If the younger boy didn’t, well, it probably wouldn’t take long for him to figure it out…

Judging by the look on Sam’s face, Sam already knew it. Damn…

“I am behaving.” Dean protested mildly. An evil idea coming to mind, Dean let his voice drop an octave and whispered, “If I wasn’t behaving, I would be sliding my hand up your thigh to caress your dick, playing with it through your sweats, feeling it get harder and heavier with every stroke, every squeeze. Teasing you till you were rock hard and started leaking, until you were squirming and begging for more and then I would slip my hand under the waist band and touch your cock…”

* * *

Sam was rather pleased with him. Hah.

Then Dean started talking dirty.

He had never had anyone say things to him like that, in that way, giving him that look. Okay, the shits Lancaster sicced on him did not count because that was violent talk, intimidation and scare tactics. Dean's voice was nothing like theirs. His was velvet smooth and Sam's mind immediately flashed to exactly the things Dean had done before. How his hand had felt rubbing him, touching him, bringing him hard, how Dean's mouth, which his gaze was now on, had been on his cock. How those lips had wrapped around his shaft, how his tongue had toyed with Sam's slit, wrapped around his cock, licked him and sucked on him. How his cock had leaked and pulsed as Dean sent him careening over the edge both in his dreams and in reality.

Oh crap. His cock was definitely beginning to get its hopes up.

"Okay, okay! You win!" Sam said, blushing. "Behave yourself behaving yourself!"

* * *

Dean could tell that what he was doing was having exactly the effect that he wanted it to have. Sam definitely wasn’t paying attention to the movie anymore. In fact, the younger boy seemed entranced and he could practically see the heat building in Sam’s eyes. The effect he was having on the younger boy was obvious, as though Dean really was touching Sam exactly as he described. Dean had always thought things like phone sex and talking dirty was a little silly, and while he still believe in no way it could compare to the real thing, the younger boy’s reactions just to his voice…. Ok this was kind of hot.

Then Sam blushed impressively and declared that he had ‘won’ and Dean couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Sure it hurt a bit, but he couldn’t help it. Sam was just so damned cute when he was flustered and aroused at the same time.

When Sam ordered him once again to behave himself, Dean decided that was probably a good idea. But he couldn’t help but tease the younger boy one last time first.

“But I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Dean said grinning.

* * *

Sam slapped him on the arm. "And you better not!" Sam said. Okay Dean was just too fucking pleased with himself. And he had every right to be, Sam realized. They were just words but…just words, he firmly told his cock, threatening it with an ice pack if it didn't cool it.

"You are such a…a nerf-herder!" Sam said, calling Dean what Princess Leia had called Han Solo. "I'm not sure what one is, but I'm sure you are one," Sam harrumphed.

The sound of an engine out front had Sam twisting his head toward the window. It sounded like a truck. Probably Bobby's tow truck. "Saved by Bobby," Sam breathed and gave Dean a mock glare. He flicked back the blanket, tossing it over Dean's head as he slipped off the bed, paused the tape, and headed out to meet Bobby at the door.

"Bobby's here," he called to his parents. He heard his father on the phone again in the living room, but his mother looked up from the dining room table where she had her laptop set up. Sam opened the door before Bobby cold even knock. He saw the Impala was already hooked up. At least it looked like no one had messed with it.

"Hi, Bobby," Sam greeting Bobby, ushering him in. "Dean's in the den."

Bobby gave a slight bow to Keiko. She gave him a nod back. She'd speak with him before he left, but he knew bobby would need to talk with Dean in private, about the gun if nothing else. "Sam, I want to show you a few more pictures I took for that project of yours. Why do you show Bobby to Dean then come back and join me for a minute."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam said, pleased his mother had gotten some more pictures. Maybe he could finish the portfolio up this weekend and give it to Dean. That might cheer him up.

Sam led Bobby to Dean, then headed back out to his mom.

* * *

Dean merely snorted when Sam smacked his arm and outright laughed again when the younger boy called him a Nerf Herder. Sam was such a geek… but Sam was his geek. That thought made him smile as he watched the younger boy fondly as Sam tried to look unaffected by the naughty things Dean had been whispering to him, and for the most part failing.

He heard the sound of Bobby’s truck the same time that Sam did, recognizing the sound of the engine immediately.

“Hey. I resent that.” Dean ‘complained’ when Sam said he was ‘saved by Bobby’. Like Sam hadn’t enjoyed it… the younger boy could pretend all he wanted to, but Dean knew he’d turned Sam on something fierce with his dirty talk. Dean was going to have to remember that the next time they were making out.

Though Dean was glad that Bobby was here, that meant the older man had brought his pain medication which he still desperately needed even though Sam had done a good job of distracting him. Before long Sam was letting the older hunter inside and Dean gave a slight nod to Bobby when he saw him.

“Hey, Bobby.” 

* * *

"Well don't you look all comfy," Bobby said, taking in Dean propped up in the pull out bed. The playstation and VCR sat by the TV and he could see the empty cardboard case of "Star Wars" sitting on the TV. He marveled a moment at how bright and cheery the place looked, the light shining through the window. He never really considered his place dark and dreary but in comparison, it was and he felt kinda bad about that. Maybe he oughtta pick things up a bit, let some light in. Yeah and let anything outside see what was inside...still, maybe his place could use a little something. His dead wife would probably be horrified to see the house in the condition it was in, and really, maybe Dean could use a place a little less dark and dismal. Maybe he oughtta think about slapping a few coats of paint in the place, and replacing the threadbare rugs. If Sam was gonna be coming over everyday, maybe he could get Sam to sort and straighten up his books a bit, dust a bit. Not like he didn't sweep or dust or nothing, it just, well, might be nice to freshen up the house before winter set in.

Turning his gaze back to Dean he could plainly see the pain in those green eyes. He brought Dean's duffel over and set it on the bed, immediately opening it and pulling out the pain medication and handing the two bottles to Dean. "This is what you still had left and I went ahead and filled the new prescription, just in case," he said, setting the new medication still in the bag on end table.

Bobby extracted a small leather bag. "Razor, soap, toothbrush, deodorant, and stuff's in here. Brought you a couple t-shirts cause I figure in a day or two that's what you'll want, even if you shouldn't be stretching like that to get into 'em. A couple short sleeved button up work shirts and a couple flannels. One pair of sweats for sleepin' in and a couple jeans, socks and stuff." His voice dropped then. "The secret pocket in your bag has your 9-mm in it with a full clip, alternating silver and iron rounds. Keiko said you could have it, but not to tell Sam, and the safety stays on. Sam finds out and she'll probably have both our hides. Yer hunting knife is down in the other side pocket. She's knows we're hunters and she doesn't want Sam to know about that neither."

* * *

Dean gave Bobby a dirty look when the older hunter commented on how ‘comfy’ he looked. He was still pretty pissed at the man. The older man knew good god damned well he hadn’t wanted to come here, that Bobby had given him no choice really. He would have been a hell of a lot ‘comfier’ on the couch at home, probably wouldn’t have had a nightmare either the first time he closed his eyes because he was feeling like a sitting duck laying here, if Bobby would have just let him come home. If he got any sleep at all the entire time he was here it would be a fucking miracle probably.

There was no point in getting into another argument with Bobby now however, the older man had made up his mind to leave him here. Dean would just have to find a way to get home once Bobby had left on the hunt, plain and simple.

“Thanks.” Dean muttered as he gratefully took the pain medication the older hunter dug out of the bag for him, and immediately opened up the bottles and dry swallowed his dosage. He was really tempted to take a little more than normal considering how much he fucking hurt but decided to wait. If it turned out he needed more he’d take a little more sometime later. Bobby would shit a brick if he risked an overdose or something by taking too much at one time.

Though when Bobby started listing off all the stuff he’d brought with him, Dean couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow. Christ, he was only staying here for a couple of days not a week or more. Yet when the older hunter told him that he’d brought him his gun after all… and that he’d apparently asked permission first, Sam’s mother said yes, _and_ she knew about hunting, both of Dean’s eyebrow’s climbed. He’d had no intention of ever telling Sam he was a hunter… but… What the fuck?!

Dean frowned suddenly, his eyes darting to the ‘dream bag’ that he’d had around his neck when he woke up. He wasn’t going to tell Bobby, not now at least, but given the way circumstances had just drastically changed… Before what Bobby had just told him he could kind of make himself believe that what had happened was some kind of weird family tradition or something, but now…

“She cast a spell on me when I was sleeping. Sam was ‘singing’ it when I woke up, apparently she was too, but she left before I woke up. I don’t know what it was, it was in Japanese, and that thing was around my neck. Sam called it a dream bag.” Dean said, now looking at the bag like it was a snake ready to bite him. 

* * *

Bobby frowned at Dean's news and reached over to pick up the bag. He hadn't gotten the sense of any ill will from Keiko, but people could put up good facades. She knew about hunters, but evil things being hunted often did. Permitting Sam to stay with them gave Sam access to an in depth library to the supernatural. So much ran in her favor though. The hunter's bow that was obviously meant for killing evil and she kept it, treasured it and honored it. She understood Dean's need to feel protected and permitted a young man that was still really almost a stranger to her to bring a gun in house.

Carefully opening the leather bag he pushed around the items inside, looking at each one. A piece of coral, anise seeds, spider silk, iron shavings, herbs that he thought were betony, mint, and mugwort, a small silver disc engraved with the image of a katana, a citrine bead, black volcanic glass, and a small piece of malachite were all contained in the bag. He re-tightened the leather thong keeping it sealed and studied the faint Japanese writing etched on the bag. "It's a conjure bag, a hex bag of sorts. From what's in it, I'd guess it's protection from nightmares and evil spirits. The 'song' was probably entreaties to her ancestors to protect you and draw you out of yer nightmare. Coulda been a spell too, like an exorcism of yer nightmares. Nothing in there dark, Dean. Silver, iron, herbs, crystals. The symbols on the bag are written in silver ink, and though they're pretty faded, say things like protection, courage, fearlessness, and the gold dragon." He pressed the bag into Dean's hand. "Protection, not harm. She told me Sam had nightmares when he was a baby and still has night terrors. I imagine she made it up for him."

* * *

Dean watched as Bobby carefully opened the hex bag and looked inside it, examining its contents. From the older hunter’s expression he didn’t seem to see anything in there that was alarming, but Dean didn’t relax until Bobby confirmed its contents were harmless. Still, a slight frown marred the young man’s features when Bobby pressed the bag into his hand. Harmless or not he definitely didn’t like the idea of someone doing spells on him when he was sleeping.

Bobby was probably right… though he was a little surprised that Bobby knew that Sam had bad dreams too. Sam had said that the bag and the song his mother sang always helped his nightmares and made him feel safe. Whatever else Sam’s mother might be… Dean honestly didn’t think she would try to harm her own son, so Dean finally nodded.

“Thanks, Bobby… You’re leaving now, I guess?” Dean finally asked, looking up at the older man. 

* * *

Bobby could see the worry in the young man's eyes. He knew he would feel the same the first time Dean went off on a hunt without him. That thought by itself kind of chilled his bones. After a moment, Bobby sat down next to Dean.

"Now stop yer fretting boy. It takes two hunters to make up for one of you. Both Tim and his wife are coming along. I know yer worried and I know you were lookin' forward to this hunt. I know you don't want to be here in this house havin' the Colts lookin' after you. It's gotta be this way. There'll be other hunts. I'll be fine. Faced down my share of wolves before, this ain't my first rodeo. I don't wanna be distracted, worrying that you've taken a fall, bleeding all over my fancy wood floors, with no one there but a slobbery old dog to help you. Rumsfeld, he's a smart ol' hound but I still ain't taught him to dial 911. With you here I know you got yer Sam to take care of you so I know I don't have to worry about you. I should be back Sunday night if everything goes the way it should. I'll call you every afternoon and update you so you know what's happening.

"Son, I'm going to trust that you'll stay here like I'm asking. I'm going to ask you to be polite to the Colts. I know this life ain't yer cup o' tea. I don't know if maybe this place reminds you too much of some the places and people you grew up and that's what upsets you so fiercely but you only gotta be here until Sunday. If I'm getting in on Sunday after eleven, I'll swing by at six thirty or seven the next morning to pick you up. Don't wanna wake you up, don't wanna wake the Colts up Sunday night if I'm in too late. We'll figure it out Sunday when I call, when I know when I'll be in. I know you can be a real pain in the ass when you want to be. I also know you can charm the scales offen a snake if you wanna. Try to be the charmer this weekend no matter what. For both me and Sam."

Bobby gripped Dean's shoulder. "You rest and get yourself better. I 'xpect you to be ready for whatever hunt comes up next. And you are gonna need to be at your best to fend off that ass Lancaster and protect Sam. We under estimated him. We can't afford to a second time.

"I'm getting your car home, locked up tight, then get on the road. Gonna drive about half way there tonight and finish the drive in the morning. I'll call you when I check into whatever motel I end up at." He gave Dean's cheek the lightest of slaps. "Get better and behave yerself. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Pushing himself to his feet he gave Dean a smirk and added softly, "and for God's sake, boy, don't let the Colts catch you and Sam making out."

* * *

Bobby really knew him too damned well.

The older man was right though. Dean hated the idea of Bobby going after that werewolf without him, even though the young hunter knew he was in no fucking shape to go on a hunt. Just another reason to beat that son of a bitch Eric to within an inch of his life the next time he saw the fucker. He worried about Bobby... even though Dean knew there were going to be two good hunters watching the older man’s back. Yeah, he knew that Bobby had taken out werewolves before, the older man was one of the best hunters there was, but still...

Dean was a bit surprised when Bobby told him that Jeff’s mom and dad were the ones going with Bobby on the hunt. He’d thought that Jeff and his dad Tim were going to go on the hunt with Bobby, but apparently the young hunter was going to be staying here. Dean wondered if the change had to do with what had happened today with Eric... probably... Jeff probably wasn’t too happy then either.

The young hunter couldn’t help but frown as Bobby went on to lay on a pretty heavy guilt trip... damn it... the older man really did know him too fucking well. He knew the last thing Bobby needed on a hunt was a distraction, and he certainly didn’t want the older hunter to be worrying about him...

“Fine.” Dean finally muttered. Yeah, he’d do what Bobby asked... but the older man better be by Sunday, Monday morning at the latest, to pick him up like he promised. He’d even... try to be nice... for Sam and Bobby’s sake. Though if Sam’s mom did any other spells on him without his permission there was going to be a problem.

Bobby was right, he often was, damn him. They’d underestimated Lancaster. He wouldn’t again.

“I will.” Dean replied when the older man repeated that he rest and rolled his eyes at the older man’s order not to let the Colt’s catch him and Sam making out. Well, Bobby hadn’t said not to make out, he’d just said not to get caught. Dean had no intention of getting caught.

“Be careful.” The young man said, even though he knew it wasn’t necessary, Bobby was always careful. 

* * *

Bobby gave a nod. "I will," then head out to talk with Keiko. Sam waved him over to the computer.

"Mom got more pictures of Dean's cars," he whispered. "Aren't they neat?"

Bobby looked down at the pictures on the computer and raised an eyebrow. She was a good photographer. "They look impressive, Keiko. Sam, lemme speak with your mom a few minutes. And you better get back in with Dean. With his pain medication, he'll be out pretty fast and I'm sure he'll feel better with you there."

"Yeah he had a bad nightmare. I couldn't wake him up. It took the dream-song to get him to wake up." Sam pushed up from the table, grabbed a Coke for himself from the fridge, and headed back to the den.

Bobby looked down at the petite oriental. "Dream-song?"

She sighed. "It's an elemental invocation to soothe the mind of those supernaturally touched. Completely harmless. It's kind of a verbal dreamcatcher, and the bag gives the magic a focal point and acts kind of like a drawing salve, pulling out the dark and turning the frightening dream into pleasant dreams before one rouses." She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote it out in Japanese. "Loses something in the translation to English and since you can read Japanese, it's something you can put in your hunter's journal. And the conjure bag," she quickly wrote down its contents and the ritual used to make it. "Nothing ominous. Had to substitute an herb or two for its American counterpart, but they're just as effective. I used to have to revitalize it once every couple weeks in the beginning. Actually in the beginning I had to make a couple more, Sam simply burned them out. Now once every six months, hanging it out in the sun and fresh air will due the trick."

"So are you a hunter. Or witch."

"Hunter. Was, in my youth. Once married, the women typically stop hunting. I've three brothers to carry on the tradition and five uncles back in Japan. I haven't hunted in about twenty years now. The women become the caretakers of the family knowledge. The children of the men carry on hunting, the children of the women do not unless there is no other choice. Sam has many cousins, so he is free of the burden."

"And the bow?"

She smiled thinly. "In this day of guns, bows are infrequently used and difficult to hide, relatively speaking. And who would take such an ornate bow deer hunting? Hence it has been relegated to 'family knowledge' and I am its caretaker."

"So you were full of it when you claimed you didn't know what it said."

She laughed softly. "I was honestly surprised you could read it. My ancestor was the Gold Dragon. He was a famous samurai and hunter. The bow actually says "Teeth of the Golden Dragon" and it does have a name, while his swords are the Claws of the Golden Dragon each with their own name. My brothers have those and still hunt. The bow is capable of bringing down most any supernatural creature if the special arrows are used. Otherwise, it is simply a bow of true aim."

"And you can make these arrows?"

"Or course, but as with the bow, they haven't their full potency unless used together."

"I would be very interested in learning how to make those arrows," Bobby said.

"I'm sure you would," Keiko said. "They are for descendants of the Golden Dragon alone." She gave him a small smile. "Besides they require blood of his descendants, so you couldn't anyhow."

Bobby looked a little disappointed. He would still be interested in the methodology and might try to work it out of her. "You would ease Dean's mind a lot if he knew you were a hunter."

"I'd rather earn his respect on my own merits. I'm not a hunter any longer."

Bobby shrugged but shook his head. "Once a hunter, always a hunter."

"Family is where my duty lies, Bobby. If I spy something unusual, I pass it along and the tip finds its way to other hunters."

Bobby gave a bow. "No offense meant. I'd best get going. A lot to get done before the sun sets."

"Safe trip," she said and saw him to the door.

*  
Sam returned to the den and turned the tape back on before settling beside Dean and taking a sip of his Coke. He couldn't be certain if Dean seemed more tense or not. Bobby was just taking a trip. What had Dean worried? Maybe he was afraid more nightmares would hit him while he was there. It was then he noticed the dream-pouch was laying on the end table.

"The dream-pouch will help keep your nightmares away. It doesn't always work but it seems to help," Sam said, taking Dean's hand.

* * *

Dean looked over when he heard the sound at the doorway and offered Sam a tired smile. With Sam here and the fact that Bobby hadn’t left yet, it probably meant the hunter and Sam’s mother were talking about stuff they didn’t want the younger boy to overhear. He hoped Bobby was telling her not to cast any more god damned spells on him. Even if what she’d done had been… helpful… that wasn’t the point. ‘Good’ magic or not, it had been done without his consent.

He’d thrown the ‘dream bag’ back on the end table after Bobby had left. When Sam mentioned it he glanced over at it. No longer eyeing it distrustfully, but still with distaste.

“I’ll be fine, Sam. Don’t worry.” Dean said, giving the younger boy’s hand a slight squeeze before turning his eyes back to the movie. The painkillers were definitely starting to work as his eyelids began to grow heavy again despite his efforts to keep his eyes open. At least the pain was starting to ease up as well.

Hopefully the painkillers would put him out deep enough that he wouldn’t dream.

* * *

"Of course I'm going to worry," Sam said. "Nightmares suck out loud. But I'm right here if you need me."

He scooted a little closer to Dean and focused on the movie, but he soon felt Dean's hand grow limp in his own. He reached across and grabbed the dream bag and carefully laid it around Dean's neck. He figured Dean wouldn't be real thrilled since it was obvious he didn't want to wear it—maybe it made him feel silly—but Sam really believed it helped.

Turning down the movie he let it play out, and then just laid beside Dean, studying his face, occasionally gently running his fingers along Dean's face, as if memorizing what he looked like with his fingers. He looked innocent in his sleep, even with the bruises discoloring the flesh around his temple. He was beautiful Sam decided, even if it was a girly description, it fit. He finally gave Dean a kiss on his cheek and slipped out of the bed. After hitting the restroom, he saw his father had fallen asleep with the newspaper in his lap. His mom was still working on the computer.

"Hi."

She smiled at him. "How's Dean doing?"

"Asleep. I put the dream-bag back on him. He took it off earlier. It'll keep his nightmares away right?"

"No promises Sam. But it should help. If he doesn't want it on, you shouldn't make him wear it though," she scolded him gently. "He strikes me as being very particular about such things."

"I'll take it off of him when I go back in. I just wanted it on him while I'm out here. When's dinner?"

"A few more hours. It's in the crock pot cooking and the bread machine is going. No snacking unless you want an apple."

Sam pouted, then laughed at her stern look. "Oh okay. Is it all right if I sleep with Dean?" Realizing what he said and how it sounded made him blush brightly. "I mean in the den, not with Dean," he stuttered.

She laughed at his embarrassment. "Yes, I imagine Dean would have something to say about that."

_Like, oh hell yeah_ , Sam thought and blushed brighter. "Yeah, I think he would," Sam agreed.

"I don't see why not. It will probably make him feel a little more comfortable with you  
there."

"Okay." He pushed himself to his feet. "Lemme know if you need help with dinner or anything."

"I will."

Sam returned to the den and picked up his book. He looked at the recliner, then at the bed and decided to settle in the bed so Dean would know he was there. He took the dream bag off Dean, recalling what his mom had said, then opened his book.


	11. Chapter 11

  
Dean woke up to the smell of something… really good.    


  
He wasn't sure if it was the smell itself or his grumbling stomach that finally pulled him from sleep. His stomach gnawing on his backbone finally convinced his eyes that it was worthwhile to open though. Even though he still felt exhausted… not to mention like he'd been run over by a truck and then had it back up over him to do it again. At least the sleep he'd gotten had been free of nightmares though, letting him actually rest, even if it was only for a few hours. 

It took him only a minute to realize where he was. Sam's home... He wondered if it would always set him on edge every time he opened his eyes. Probably. Because at least when he was on a hunt with Bobby, away from home staying at a random hotel, there were protections. But at least now he had his gun and knife close by, even if he would have liked them a little closer. He wondered how much knowing that he was not completely defenseless anymore contributed to his lack of nightmares this time…

Or maybe it was more to do with the warm weight settled beside him on the bed. 

Sam was laying beside him, reading, and apparently hadn't noticed he was awake yet. Small wonder considering Dean's growling stomach. Sam seemed pretty engrossed in the book though. Maybe he just hadn't heard it. Dean took the time to study the younger boy's fine features without Sam getting shy and blushing under the regard… not that he didn't like it when Sam blushed, but this was nice too.

"What are you reading?" Dean finally asked.    


* * *

Sam was deeply engrossed in his book and when the voice sounded beside in the previously quiet room, he jumped, his breath hitching. His gaze shot to Dean as he shifted away. He let out a sigh when his brain caught up to the real world.

"You scared the shit out of me," Sam said. "Uhm, Chronicles of Amber. Fantasy/mystery sort of thing. Guy wakes up in a hospital with amnesia and some one's trying to kill him. Then he learns he can travel through parallel worlds, and he's got a bunch of brothers and sisters most of whom don't like him very much. He's a prince, the king is missing, so there's also a battle for the throne and stuff. It's complicated."

Sam's heart beat was still trying to slow down from the start. He wasn't used to being in a room with someone else when he was reading. If there was a voice it usually came from the doorway not right beside him, or there had been other noises that had already alerted him someone was around. Looking at Dean he saw that Dean seemed to have a little more color and a little less pain in his eyes.

"You look like you're feeling better. Do you need help to the bathroom or anything?" He glanced at the clock. "Dinner's probably about ready, too."

* * *

Dean raised an eyebrow when Sam practically jumped out of his skin, then he couldn’t help but laugh. He had scared Sam? How could he possibly have scared him? It wasn’t like he had snuck up on the younger boy. He’d been lying right next to him. Had Sam somehow completely forgotten he was there? Dean wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t be a little bit offended by that.

He merely shook his head when Sam started explaining the plot of the book he was reading. Yeah, not really his thing, but for his geeky Sammy he wasn’t all that surprised.

“Yeah, a little.” Dean replied when Sam remarked that he looked better. He was hardly feeling even close to a hundred percent, probably not even at fifty percent, but he felt better than before at least, which was definitely an improvement. When Sam asked him if he needed to go to the bathroom, he thought for a moment. Getting up would probably just make him feel like crap all over again… but he did need to go.

“Yeah.” He finally decided, and started trying to sit up. 

* * *

"Wait you idiot!" Sam protested. He slid his arm behind Dean's waist, then up a little bit further to his mid-back. "Okay. Now."

He could tell it still hurt Dean, but he knew it would have been a lot worse if he hadn't help. "Now just stay put a minute."

Easing out of the bed he hurried to Dean's side and helped him move his legs off the side of the bed. He hesitated a moment. "Let me get some help. We don't know how shakey you'll be and I'm not sure I can hold you up by myself." He dashed out the door before Dean could protest and brought his father back in with him. Dean didn't look happy but had surprisingly stayed down. Or else had tried to get up and found he couldn't.

Father and son helped Dean to his feet, holding him, letting him gain his balance. They walked slowly toward the bathroom. Sam saw his father had put a chair in the small half bath. The chair was turned so the back of it was available to Dean to use to stabilize himself.

"Didn't think you'd want help in here," Jim said, "but thought you might need a little extra something to hold on to. If you have to sit down to take care of business, don't try to get back up by yourself. In fact, you shouldn't try to sit by yourself. So, do you need us or have you got it handled?"

"I can stay if you want," Sam said. "Kinda crowded with the three of us and the chair."

* * *

Dean frowned a little when Sam called him an idiot. The younger boy did that way too often in his opinion. Bobby did the same thing whenever he thought Dean was being ‘stubborn’, though the older hunter called him an idget instead. Dean did the same thing now as when Bobby called him an idget, he merely rolled his eyes at Sam. But he didn’t protest the help that the younger boy gave him in sitting up. The fact that Dean probably wouldn’t have made it on his own had nothing to do with that, he stubbornly told himself.

Fuck that hurt…

Though once Sam had helped him to the edge of the bed, Dean frowned again. He didn’t need any help, damn it. If Sam just got him to his feet Dean was sure that he could make it to the bathroom and back on his own. Unfortunately trying to stand on his own, just to prove the point, hadn’t worked out so well… damn it.

When Sam returned with his father, Dean grudgingly let the older man and Sam help him to his feet. It was a bitch, but once he was standing he figured he’d be ok. Well, he’d been wrong before. His head started pounding almost the second he was on his feet and he was having a little bit of trouble keeping his balance as he walked. By the time they reached the bathroom, Dean was ready to say fuck it and just go back to bed, he’d piss later… but he supposed since he was already here he’d piss now.

When the two men offered to stay with him while he took care of business, Dean shook his head. There were only so many indignities he was prepared to endure, and while he might have his share of kinks, water sports definitely wasn’t one of them.

“I’ve got it.” 

* * *

Both of the Colts stepped out to give Dean his privacy, Sam closing the door behind him.

"I've already got the lap trays out for you two," Jim said. "I'm betting Dean's not going to feel up to walking out to the dining room so I thought the two of you could eat in the den. Your mom and I will bring dinner in to you two."

"I can help," Sam offered.

"You are. By looking after Dean. I think your mother and I can manage setting the table ourselves," he said, squeezing his son's shoulder. "You just bring the dishes out when you're done and that will be fine. And you make sure if Dean needs something he's not worried about asking for it." More softly he added, "I get the feeling he's not used to other people willing, let alone wanting to help him."

Sam nodded. Yeah, he got the feeling self worth wasn't really in Dean's thought process too. They heard the toilet flush and then the water run in the sink. Sam peeked in. "Ready?"

Seeing Dean was, they helped Dean back to bed and got him settled.

"I'll go get you dinner," Jim told the boys.

* * *

Dean took care of his business as quickly as he could, not willing to risk running out of what little strength and balance he had, and risk ending up on the floor. Having Sam and his father rush in the bathroom to pick him up off the floor with his pants down around his ankles would just be the highlight of his day... Almost as soon as he’d flushed and washed his hands, Sam was looking in asking if he was done, and the young man nodded in reply.

When Sam and his father helped him back to the pull out bed Dean was quite glad to be laying down once more. Dean really hoped that by tomorrow some of the new tenderness in his side from the ripped stitches will have worn off… or at least he would have gotten used to it by then. He really, really, didn’t want to think about the indignity of needing help to get on and off the toilet when he needed to take a crap… why not need help to wipe his ass too, and make the experience really special…

Ok, so he was a bit cranky… and he couldn’t even work out, spar with Bobby, or do target practice like he usually did when he got in this kind of mood. Maybe imagining all the pain he was going to put Lancaster through once Dean got the chance would put him in a better mood. Though actually doing it would feel a lot more satisfying than thinking about it.

Dean sighed softly and gave Sam a strained smile, seeing the younger boy looking at him a little worriedly. At least there was dinner… though Dean wasn’t looking forward to it quite as much as he had before, he was still feeling hungry so that was probably an improvement. Hopefully he could get through eating without puking. 

* * *

Sam got one of the vicodin out of the prescription bottles and handed it Dean along with some water. "Here, you can take one of these. It's way too soon to take the other one."

Glancing around the room, Sam finally spotted the oval trashcan by the recliner. He picked up the metal can and emptied what little was in it into a bag and set the cherry blossom painted can on Dean's side of the bed. "For napkins or…if you need it for anything else," Sam said. "You look a little…green."

He slid the next Star Wars tape into the VCR and got it set up and ready and settled onto the bed by the senior. He could smell the stew and his stomach was beginning to growl hungrily. His parents came in then carrying trays loaded with cream colored plates filled with beef stew and big hunks of steaming white bread.

"Sam, honey, would you go get your glasses of tea. Oh, Jim, we forgot the salt and pepper and napkins."

"Sure, Mom," Sam said and climbed back off the bed and headed out to the kitchen

"I thought you got them," Jim said, but seeing they weren't on the tray she carried, set his tray down on an end table. "I'll get them," he said, following his son back down the hall to the kitchen.

Although Keiko had wanted Dean to judge her without being influenced by anything else, she had thought long and hard about her conversation with Bobby and the nightmares Dean had. She decided she would tell him about the protections and wasn't sure she would have another excuse to speak with Dean alone before night fell and the young man was asleep for the evening. She set the lap tray over Dean's legs. Softly she said, "I thought it might make you feel better to know that up in the attic iron pipe rings the house and they're filled with salt. Also the attic is partially floored. On the underside of the flooring so my husband wouldn't see them are devil's traps. Or at least the Japanese version of such. I don't know if that will help you sleep easier tonight, but I thought it might."

* * *

Dean gave the younger boy a grateful smile when Sam got him one of his pills, taking it quickly and handing the remainder of the water back to him when he was finished. He hoped that would help some with the pain. Liquor would probably help more, but he doubted that Sam’s parents were going to let him do shots while he was in their house.

When Sam brought him over a trash can and set it by the bed, Dean chuckled softly.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you lose your appetite.” He reassured the younger boy. Though he was feeling a bit on the queasy side, he felt better now that he wasn’t upright anymore. He was pretty sure he’d be able to eat something as simple as soup and bread without it coming back for a revisit. He certainly wouldn’t blame the younger boy though if Sam didn’t want to eat with him, just in case something like that _did_ happen. He heard Sam’s stomach growling and there wasn’t a much more effective way to ruin your appetite than having to hold the trash can while someone else puked into it.

Dean watched as Sam loaded Empire Strikes Back into the VCR. He’d slept through most of the first movie, but that was ok since the second was his favorite anyway. When Sam’s parents brought in the trays of food, Dean was a bit embarrassed by the way his mouth began to water a little, but he couldn’t deny it smelled fucking great. Even better than the scents wafting in from the kitchen… Then suddenly Dean found himself left alone with Sam’s mother. If he didn’t know better he’d say she planned it that way.

Apparently she had.

Dean’s eyebrows rose as she explained to him the protections set up around her home. Protections no one but a hunter… or someone who at least knew about the supernatural, would have. Just… who the hell was this woman? Was she a hunter? Or had been at one time? If that was true… why didn’t Sam know anything about it? If she knew… how could he keep Sam ignorant of such things? Put him in danger like that? If you didn’t know the danger out there how could you protect yourself?

By the time he’d processed what she was telling him, before he could open his mouth and say anything, Sam was returning with their drinks and Dean closed his mouth again. Merely giving Sam’s mother a slight nod, for the moment, though it was obvious they were going to have to talk later whether Dean wanted to or not. Though at least sleeping might be a little easier now that he knew he wasn’t such a sitting duck. Knowing that Sam would be safe too… ok, that eased his mind a whole fucking lot.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean told the younger boy with a slight smile, taking his drink from him. 

* * *

"You're welcome," Sam said, smiling back at him.

Sam got back in beside Dean and his dad handed him the tray with his dinner. He loved his mom's stew. Beef, potatoes, carrots, celery, sage, it was all just awesome. Especially with the fresh bread. Of course, his mom was a pretty good cook all around. Still, Dean's burgers and fries, she couldn't top those.

"Give a shout if you need more tea or anything," Jim told them before he and Keiko left the two boys alone.

"Hope you like it," Sam said before he dug in.

Between eating and the movie, Sam was silent. By the time he finished his meal he was pretty stuffed and sighed happily. He saw Dean seemed to like the stew and once they were both done, Sam carried the dishes out, got them some more tea and settled down again beside Dean. He put his hand on Dean's thigh and absently brushed his fingers over the fabric of the jeans.

"Did you like the stew? Are you feeling any better?" he asked, squeezing the older boy's thigh.

* * *

Dean took a few cautious spoonfuls of the stew, just to make sure he could keep his promise to Sam, and when he was certain his food would stay where he put it he began to eat at a more regular pace. Though he wasn’t as enthusiastic as he normally was when eating, he had to admit the food was pretty good. Sam ate like he was ravenous and Dean couldn’t help but smile at the younger boy between taking bites of his own food and watching the movie. This had to be the longest he’d been with the boy and Sam had been quiet, he thought amused.

Dean didn’t finish all of his food and bread but he’d finished a good portion of it. When Sam took his dishes Dean reached around to adjust the pillows that had been propping him up so he could eat and shifted so he could lay down once again. Sam would probably get the bitch face because he’d done it without waiting for help, but it really hadn’t been that difficult, drugs definitely kicking in.

When Sam returned and laid beside him, resting his hand on his thigh, caressing it lightly, Dean smiled up at the younger boy. He wondered if Sam even realized what he was doing.

“Yeah.” Dean replied, in answer to both of Sam’s questions. When Sam gave his thigh a squeeze, he let his hand drop over the younger boy’s, caressing Sam’s fingers with his own. 

* * *

Sam smiled at the senior. "Good. Told you she made good stew."

Turning his hand over he interlaced his fingers with Dean. "You know, it'd be nice if one of us wasn't bruised up or hurt for longer than a couple days."

Listening for activity in the other rooms he turned to Dean with a glimmer in his eyes. He knew his mom would probably be back on the computer and he figured his dad was probably cleaning up. It was unlikely either of his parents would disturb them at least until the movie was over. He leaned in and kissed Dean. He knew Dean wasn't in any shape to get too excited, and he would be horrified if he had to go jack off or something, but a little light making out, that would probably be okay for them both. Assuming they could keep it at light making out he thought with laugh to himself. It seemed like when they started anything, it went all the way.

He opened his mouth and let Dean's tongue in. He started to moan and realized if his parents heard him…no that would be bad. It was an effort but he choked back any sound, or at least tried to.

* * *

Sam’s comment made Dean laugh softly. Yeah, it would be nice. Especially since he was looking forward to doing a lot more with the younger boy than making out and sharing a few hand jobs. Though Dean certainly wouldn’t be disappointed if Sam decided he wanted to try giving him a blow job. Unfortunately Sam would probably think even that would be too ‘strenuous’ on him right now. Not that they could do such a thing in Sam’s parents house anyway… at least not while they were awake. He’d also promised Sam that he would get the boy laid with a woman first. Damn, Dean was regretting making that promise, but he’d stand by it.

Then Sam was looking at him in a way that made Dean raise an eyebrow. The younger boy had that look that made him wonder if he should be worried or pleased. Definitely the latter, Dean discovered.

The kiss that the younger boy gave him was unexpected but definitely not unwelcome, and he moaned softly in approval. Yeah, he knew they shouldn’t be doing this, they were risking getting caught and that would be very bad, but he hadn’t really been able to say ‘no’ to Sam yet. At least not in regards to this.

Dean had expected it to be a short, almost chaste, kiss though. But when Sam didn’t pull away, instead feeling the younger boy’s lips part, he didn’t hesitate deepening the kiss. Letting his tongue slip into that sweet mouth and twine with the younger boy’s as his free hand came up to slide through the soft hair at the base of Sam’s skull. Not a good idea, not a good idea, a voice in the back of his mind… that sounded surprisingly like Bobby… repeated over and over but it was easy to ignore as Sam sucked on his tongue. 

* * *

God he loved the way Dean kissed. When Dean's tongue began dancing with his own, he remembered how it felt when Dean had sucked on his tongue and he decided to try. It was a strange sensation feeling that wet hot muscle between his tongue and palate. He wondered…at blushed at the thought…of how Dean's cock would feel in his mouth. He remembered going down on Eric when he was trying to escape. That disgusting red swollen cock dripping pre-cum like dog drool. He'd almost puked at the taste of that horrible milky fluid all the while telling Eric how wonderful it tasted. He'd sucked on the tip, tongued the slit, licked along that hard member. Eric's crown had filled his mouth; he sucked on it, swirled his tongue around it, even gone down on it as far as he could without choking. Cock whore. Slut. The words still rang in his head and he suddenly broke off the kiss.

He laid his head on Dean's chest and felt the sudden tears. "I had to lick him. Suck him. Go down on him. He called me a cock whore. A slut. I…think what it might be like to…to try for you but all I can see is his thick cock, taste that urine smelling, salty disgusting fluid that makes me want to puke. And hear what he called me. I can't get it out of my head." He listened to Dean's heartbeat and found it comforted him. "I like it when you…for me. You know. Do it."

He took Dean's hand in his and interlaced their fingers. "When you're better…I don't want what I told Eric to be a lie. We're boyfriends," he told Dean softly. "It's okay to have sex, right? I mean, all the way type sex. You…doing me. I wanna be yours."

* * *

Dean moaned softly in appreciation, but before he could return the favor for Sam the younger boy was pulling away from him. So suddenly he could only stare up at him in surprise and confusion for a moment. But before he could ask what was wrong, if he’d done something wrong, Sam was cuddling close to him, resting his head on his chest. Worry flickered in his expression then … before Sam’s words made Dean freeze.

Sam had never gone into such detail about what Eric had done to him the first night they’d met. Dean had known that the bastard had tried to rape Sam and thankfully the younger boy had been able to get away from him, but he didn’t know… Eric had gotten so far with Sam. Dean wanted to castrate the mother fucker and shove his cock down his own throat just to give the bastard a taste of what he’d done to Sam.

“Oh Sammy…” Dean whispered, one hand finding its way into Sam’s hair, petting through the soft strands and the back of the younger boy’s neck tenderly. “I like doing it for you. It’s not the same, I promise.”

Still, Dean couldn’t help feeling guilty for wanting so much for Sam to do something for him that the younger boy obviously wasn’t ready for. No wonder Sam didn’t want to do it for him, hell, he didn’t even blame the younger boy for not wanting to touch his cock… and he’d kind of conned Sam into it with that whole sponge bath thing the other day. Dean felt about an inch tall…

When Sam twined their fingers together, Dean brought the younger boy’s hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss along his knuckles. After everything that Sam had gone through, for him to still want to be with him that way, it made Dean’s heart ache and feel light at the same time. Boyfriends… Dean never thought he’d like that word.

“It’s ok if that’s what you want, baby.” Dean said softly then smiled down at Sam. “Though I did promise I’d get you laid with a girl first. We can still do that, you know. I won’t be mad if you decide you like girls better.”

Sure, he’d be upset, and disappointed, but he wouldn’t be angry. 

* * *

Not the same. God, he hoped it wasn't the same, because he really did want to try to do it for Dean…eventually. He remembered kissing Dean after Dean had given him that awesome blow job and remembered the taste in the older youth's mouth. It hadn't been bad. Maybe slowly he could get used to the taste, get more comfortable with the idea. Get dean so finally in his mind that thoughts of Lancaster never dared poked up again.

The feel of Dean playing with his hair at the back of his neck, it was nice and it was soothing. He felt so safe in Dean's arms. Was that chickish? Probably. He liked it too when Dean kissed his hand. He stared up at Dean. He was so handsome. Sam was certain Dean could have just about anyone he wanted and yet he chose Sam. That filled him with warmth and happiness. He sat up but kept his hand in Dean's.

"Okay, let's go with 'Sammy' instead of 'baby'," Sam said making a face. "That's just…yeah, really think Sammy's better. Baby makes me feel just a little too girlie." Reaching out he stroked the side of Dean's face. "We're boyfriends. Sleeping with a girl…I mean yeah, I'd like to try it…someday, but, I don’t want to cheat on you and that," he shrugged, "that feels like cheating. I want just us for now. I want to know what it's like, you making love to me. And I want to know what it's like, me making love to you. You in me. Me in you. I want…a relationship with you. When I see you, I want to be able to kiss you. I want your arm around my waist or over my shoulder. I want to go to see a movie and make out with you in the back row." Sam grinned. "I wanna have sex on the hood of your car. I want to learn to give you a blow job the best you've ever had. I want you to want me more than anyone else, more than any guy or girl. Just us. Each other's."

He leaned up and kissed Dean, this time taking over the kiss as he let his free hand cup the back of Dean's head. "I want you to be mine," he murmured against Dean's lips and began kissing him again.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, and he didn’t even care how it kind of hurt his side, at the look on Sam’s face when the younger boy told him to stick with ‘Sammy’ rather than ‘Baby’. It was really kind of cute how sensitive the boy was about his masculinity. Especially since Sam was such a talker, liked to cuddle, oh and let’s not forget the bouts of PMS the younger boy got on occasion. But, if Sam didn’t want to be called ‘Baby’ Dean would stick with ‘Sammy’. He liked Sammy. Though he’d probably still call the younger boy ‘Baby’ when he was making Sam come his brains out, just for the hell of it, when the he was too fucked out to protest.

Though when Sam went on to say how sleeping with a girl now that they were boyfriends felt like cheating, Dean was tempted to point out to the younger boy that if he knew, suggested, hell, even participated it could hardly be called ‘cheating’. But since Dean kind of wanted Sam all to himself anyway, he wasn’t going to argue. Besides, he really liked that the younger boy only wanted him right now. They could always fool around with a threesome later if they felt like it.

Dean had to admit he was a bit surprised however when Sam went on to say how he was looking forward to fucking him. Not that Dean was against the idea or anything he was just a little surprised. Sam seemed so shy about sex, he’d never have pegged the younger boy as wanting to top. A relationship… Dean never would have imagined he’d want such a thing, with anyone, before Sam. Even though he wasn’t convinced that the younger boy wouldn’t tire of him and kick him to the curb like everyone else, he couldn’t deny what Sam described sounded kind of… nice. Especially the whole making out in the back row of the theater and fucking the younger boy over the hood of his car, Dean couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that even as he was grinning from ear to ear. That was surprisingly kinky coming from is vanilla Sammy.

Then Sam was kissing him, taking full control of the meeting of their mouths and tongues and Dean happily gave it up. Dean moaned in approval into the younger boy’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist to pull him down next to him again.

“Already am, Sammy.” Dean replied when the younger boy finally allowed him a moment to breathe. 

* * *

Dean's words made Sam's heart just want to burst. He had never ever considered a relationship with a guy and yet here he was, looking into jade eyes and knowing that he wanted Dean with him. He knew he was only fifteen and forever was something he didn't really get. He knew that high school sweethearts, well they often didn't last. But sometimes they did. He knew that Dean was kind of coarse, short tempered, and Sam was very good at pushing buttons, even when he didn't mean to. So maybe this was a for-now thing. Maybe this was a forever thing. He still would kinda like to sleep with a girl at some point. He wasn't sure how it would feel to have his finger between her folds, to have the breast to squeeze and suck, to have a place to slide his dick. Feeling all that, yeah, he really ought to try, but right now he had nipples to rub and suck on, and he had a place he could slide his dick, though he imagined it would feel a lot different that a girl's. What could a girl do to him and for him that Dean couldn't? Having Dean put his cock inside him…okay, that was going to be strange and he hoped it felt more good than weird. He really ought to do some web searches on gay sex.

Gay. Him. That was still kinda, okay a lot, weird. Though really, most guys he didn't have the slightest interest in. Sure Jeff was kind of hot, and if Jeff had an interest in him (and he didn't have Dean) then, well, maybe. Bi, he decided. He must be bi. 'Cause girls he definitely thought were hot. Girls he definitely noticed. Being bi, that he was more comfortable with. Maybe in a couple years he'd find buys weren't his thing. Or girls weren't. He had no idea and it didn't matter to him. Right now he had Dean and Dean cared an awful lot for him.

Sam was just about to lean in to kiss Dean when he heard steps in the hallway. He scrambled out of Dean's arms and sat next to the older youth. He wasn’t quite ready to spill the beans about all this to his parents. Telling them rather than having them walk in on him and Dean, that was the route he wanted to go. Most definitely the preferred route.

His father walked by the room, glancing in and giving the boys a nod before going into the bathroom. Sam looked at Dean and smiled sheepishly at him. "I want to tell them," Sam whispered. "I don't want them walking in on us. I'm not ashamed or embarrassed, okay? Okay, maybe a little embarrassed, but I would be with a girlfriend just the same." He leaned over and gave Dean a quick kiss, reassuring him. "I just want to tell them myself."

He stared at Dean and wanted to make sure Dean wasn't mad at him for his sudden retreat. If Dean was, he'd go in and tell them right now. He wasn't quite ready for that, but he would if it looked like his actions had hurt Dean at all.

* * *

If he wasn’t so disappointed at the interruption Dean might have been amused at how quickly Sam managed to untangle himself at the sound of the footsteps in the hallway. Dean gave the younger boy credit though, how normal Sam managed to appear when they’d almost been caught making out by Sam’s father. Sam wasn’t even blushing.

Still, the interruption sucked balls, and not in the good way, and Dean sighed heavily in disappointment. Missing the younger boy’s warmth pressed against him and those sweet lips, promising more.

When Sam apologized, explaining how he wanted to tell his parents about them first rather than having them find out the ‘hard’ way, Dean figured this was as good a time as any to talk to Sam about that.

“Sammy, I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell them… about us. Let’s face it, I’m the kind of guy every parent dreads their kid is going to bring home, and even if they don’t try to have me thrown in jail because you’re a minor… I don’t want them to say I can’t see you anymore…” 

* * *

Sam frowned at Dean's words. He hadn't even considered that Dean was an 'adult' and that Sam was a minor and the legal ramifications of that. He also hadn't considered his parents might tell him he couldn't see Dean anymore. That was…ridiculous…wasn't it? And why would every parent dread their kid showing up with a guy like Dean? Okay, well maybe that wasn't a stretch. Dean hadn't been overly friendly with his parents and he was a little…unorthodox. Sam also knew that he wouldn't be able to keep it from his parents indefinitely and he didn't think they would approve at all if he hid it from them. Still, this close in time to everything that had been happening, maybe they'd think Sam had done something to encourage Lancaster and that maybe some of his words were true. And that maybe Sam was getting beaten up because he was gay or bi or whatever he was.

After some long thought Sam gave a hesitant nod. "Okay. For now. But I am going to tell them eventually. I don't like keeping secrets from them. And you need to try to make friends with them. If they like you, when I do tell them, they'll be much cooler with it than if you and them are still at odds."

He heard the bathroom door open and his father headed back to the living room. After Sam was sure he was down the hall he said, "My parents do know a gay couple and they have invited the women over for one of our Sunday cook outs before. So they aren't prejudiced in general. But I don't know what they'll think of us. Especially with everything with Eric and stuff."

* * *

At least Sam could see his point why telling his parents about them might be a bad idea. Though Dean didn’t really understand why Sam felt he would _have_ to tell them eventually. After all, teenagers were supposed to lie to their parents. Sam had to be the only teenager in the world who felt he shouldn’t keep secrets from his parents, hell Dean trusted Bobby with his life and he still hadn’t told the older hunter everything about him. Some things were just better left in the dark. Hell, he would rather Bobby didn’t know about him and Sam, but there was no way to undo that mistake now.

Dean sighed heavily. He didn’t like the idea of having to ‘make nice’ with Sam’s parents, if only so they won’t try to have him thrown in jail once the younger boy told them, but he would if he had to… even if he hated every minute of it.

When Sam mentioned how his parents had invited a lesbian couple to one of their little backyard cookouts, Dean snorted softly. Dean knew better than to think that would make any fucking difference if Sam’s parents found out about them. Sam’s parents might not be ‘prejudice’ but there was difference between hanging out with a gay couple and accepting that your own son was taking it up the ass. People were just hypocritical that way.

Dean sighed again, then glanced at the movie that was now almost over.

“Wanna watch the third one?” He asked, even though he’d really rather get back to what they were doing before Sam’s father had walked by. Unfortunately now that he had food in his stomach and he was comfortable again, he felt weariness tugging at him strongly again. 

* * *

Sam grinned at Dean's suggestion. "Sure."

He could tell Dean was lethargic, his eyes only about half open and he figured Dean would be asleep before Princess Leia ever escaped from Jabba the Hut. He slipped the last movie in as soon as "Empire" ended and settled by the senior once again. He clasped Dean's hand in his own, but decided kissing him would be a bad idea. Dean was definitely sleepy and the sleep would do him good. He scooted a little closer to Dean and focused on the movie. It wasn't long before he felt Dean's hand relax in his own. Looking over at Dean, he saw Dean was sound asleep. He leaned in and kissed Dean lightly on the cheek. With Dean's nightmare he was reluctant to leave Dean's side but he was also restless. He had sat most of the day, been arrested, fingerprinted, interrogated. He shuddered a little at it all. He most definitely would never make such a mistake again. The attention he had brought down on himself would also make it harder for him to attack Eric the way he had planned, via the computer, because he would be a prime suspect.

He could call his friend Chris he supposed. Chris's older brother and his friends were a little…okay, face it, they were a little nuts. They did all sorts of crazy shit. Go play war in the middle of the night in the woods. Toss small explosives down toilets at school. Steal shit from one yard and put it across the street in a perfect mirror image. While that all seemed trivial, they knew stuff, how to do stuff. He knew for a fact they'd beaten up some kids that had been giving Chris trouble. He wondered if they would be willing to tackle a target like Lancaster. He would have to think on it.

Sam slowly crept out of the bed and retrieved his book, then returned to Dean's side. While he didn't clasp Dean's hand again, he edged close to Dean so their thighs were touching. Somewhere along the way he closed his eyes and sleep took him, the book laying in his lap, his head resting on Dean's shoulder.

 

* * *

When Dean woke again, the room was dark save for the moonlight spilling through the curtains, giving just enough definition to objects to remind him he wasn’t at home. There wasn’t a clock anywhere in the room so he had no idea what time it might be. But considering the rest of the house also seemed dark and quiet, it was probably late at night or early in the morning. Dean had to admit, he was a bit surprised he had slept for so long without nightmares… though that might have something to do with the warm weight resting against his side making his arm fall asleep.

Dean turned his head to look at the younger boy currently using his upper chest for a pillow. He couldn’t deny he was damned surprised to find Sam there. Not that the younger boy hadn’t been sitting next to him all afternoon in the pull out bed, but the fact that Sam’s parents had let the other boy _sleep_ here… with him… like this…

Maybe Sam had only taken up this position after his parents had gone to bed or something? That seemed a much more likely scenario, and it made Dean smile a little as he gazed down at the younger boy. The cool moonlight spilling across Sam’s cheek and giving his hair a silvery tinge making Sam look even younger.

Definitely jailbait… but so damned worth the risk.

His arm really was a little uncomfortable though, all numbness, and though he was reluctant to wake the younger boy he just had to shift it out from under Sam to return a little circulation to his limb. Dean sighed as blood began to rush back to his fingers, making them tingle. But now that his arm was free he could put it around the younger boy. 

* * *

When Keiko came to rouse her son in the morning, she stopped dead in her tracks in the door way. Sam was…cuddled up…to Dean and Dean had his arm around Sam. They looked disturbingly like…lovers. They also looked so…peaceful. When she and her husband had gone to bed, both boys were asleep, Sam with his head on Dean's shoulder, book in his lap and she hadn't wanted to disturb the two. Dean wasn't happy being here and being in pain, waking up in a strange place, having nightmares, and being a hunter, it was all a bad combination. She'd probably been out of her mind to let the young man bring a gun into her house. Still, it wasn't like she didn't have her own share of weapons, just not any guns except in the bedroom, for home protection she had assured Jim. Never mind she had a clip of silver and a clip of iron bullets for them though she kept regular bullets for the first two rounds.

Sometimes she missed hunting. It especially bothered her when she read things that were clearly hunter needed events. Admittedly, she had slipped out once or twice to take care of something that went bump in the night. Once it was in your blood it was hard to step away from it. But the hunter lines were all cursed in some fashion it seemed. Few lived to their fifties or sixties, and they usually died unpleasantly. She of course knew she would be a caretaker once she married. She hadn't planned on the inability to have children. With Sam being adopted and free of the curse of the hunters she had never been able to bring herself to tell him the truth. She didn't want him afraid of the dark, afraid of what was under the bed or in the closet. She wanted him to remain innocent for as long as possible. She had taught him certain fighting skills such as knife throwing, archery, and swordplay, taught him to read ancient Japanese and most of the far eastern languages. She told him scary stories of monsters and how they could be killed by the heroic Samurai. He knew the lore, he knew the truth of how to kill anything supernatural. He just didn't know that monsters were real. She supposed she couldn't wait much longer. Once he was eighteen, he would be off to college, off on his own life, and it was his job to be caretaker of the family knowledge, of the hunter scrolls and journals and their histories and once he was eighteen, he may not be willing to accept that as part of his duty to the family. He was not the only caretaker, but he was the only one in America. Of course there were American monsters that did not exist in Japan and vice-versa. She had used a few American talismans to help protect her family because Japanese talismans didn't always work against American monsters and when in Rome, as it were…

She wondered if it were some strange sort of destiny that her boy would make friends with an obvious outcast and rebel who was also a hunter. She wanted him a caretaker, not a hunter, dammit. The ancestors had their own thoughts on it and if it were to be his destiny, then she would accept it, albeit reluctantly. That was why there was always more than one caretaker in the family lineage.

She quietly Sam and got him headed to his bathroom to shower and get ready for school while she got his breakfast made. She didn't think he realized how he had been snuggled up against the older youth or how the young man had had his arm around Sam. For the best. Dean was probably dreaming of his latest female conquest although she wasn't entirely certain that reassured her.

Once she'd seen her husband off to work and fed her son, they both heard Jeff's car pull up out front.

"I'm going to say goodbye to Dean," Sam told his mother.

"Don't wake him," she scolded him.

"I won't." Sam crept into the den and ran his hand over Dean's spiky hair, smiling. He kissed him on the forehead. "Be nice to Mom. I'll see you after school," he told Dean softly.

 

* * *

Dean had stayed awake for a while, just watching Sam sleep. He wondered if the younger boy would think that was weird, Dean watching him like that. He wondered if it would freak him out or something… maybe. It _was_ kind of stalkerish actually. But he couldn’t really help it, the view was nice, so Dean enjoyed it for as long as possible until his eyes began to grow heavy again and he fell back to sleep with his arm wrapped securely around Sam.

When he woke up again, it was definitely morning. Judging by the angle of the light… and the way Dean’s bladder felt like it was ready to burst… it was actually probably closer to noon. Damn. That meant Sam was long gone at school already, and that meant Dean was on his own getting to the bathroom.

Well, Sam’s mom was supposed to be around here somewhere, but damned if Dean was going to ask to lean on the petite Japanese woman to the bathroom so he could take a piss. Surely he could make it there himself. It wasn’t _that_ far.

Dean was actually kind of pleased it only took him three tries to get to his feet. It probably would have been easier if he’d had more painkillers in him at the moment, but he couldn’t wait for them to kick in, since he really had to go.

It was slow going. He had to hold onto the wall the entire way he limped to the bathroom, but he was determined to make it there before he pissed himself. 

* * *

Keiko heard the grunts and groans coming from the den and considered getting up to help him, then decided Dean probably needed to do this for himself. She would be there to help get him back into bed though. She carried a fresh glass of water wither to the den. While he was in the bathroom she got the pillows fluffed up and situated so he would be able to sit up comfortably.

She listened for the toilet to flush. He probably would need to do more than just piss at this point. He was also going to need to do something to while away the hours until Sam got home. He had slept so long that even with painkillers in him and eating a good lunch, he likely would be awake for at least two or three hours. What could he do that wouldn't strain his side? She smiled to herself. Well, her gun hadn't been cleaned in a couple months. It should be fine but she liked to pull out all the bullets from the clip, examine each one, take apart the gun and give it a good oiling. Then there were her knives. Most of her knives were in excellent shape but there was the subset of throwing knives that she'd practiced with over the past couple months and they needed sharpening. Dean had taken great offense at her showing him how to properly fire arrows for accuracy but she wondered if he would like to learn how to properly sharpen a samurai sword. It wasn't part of the golden dragon's set but rather one that she had used in her youth for training and sometimes on hunts. Sharpening a samurai sword took a delicate touch and particular style. Well, she could ask and if he got shitty with her, so be it.

She heard the toilet flush and then the water run for a few minutes, probably washing his hands and face. She'd set a razor and shaving cream in there for him if he wanted it, but honestly didn't figure he'd be up to it yet.

"I'm right out here when you're ready to get back in bed, Dean. I'll walk in front and you can brace yourself with your hands on my shoulders."  


* * *

Once Dean finished his business, he braced himself at the sink to wash his hands and also took the time to splash some cool water on his face. Rinsing away some of the sweat that gathered on his face and brow from the exertion of getting to the bathroom. His ankle didn’t feel too bad, since he was wearing the brace still, but his side still fucking hurt like a bitch. Though he noticed the shaving stuff sitting on the side of the sink, the only thing Dean was really interested in right now was returning to a reclining position.

He honestly wasn’t all that surprised to hear the voice of Sam’s mom outside the door when he was done. Dean grabbed a towel from the rack and wiped off his face, giving himself a moment to compose himself, before he finally opened the bathroom door and limped out.

Though he would have loved to protest the need for help getting back to the bed, Dean wasn’t all that certain he’d make it back on his own steam. If he fell, he was pretty sure the petite woman wouldn’t be able to get him back up by herself… and he’d promised Bobby and Sam…

So he accepted the help getting back to the den and situated back into the bed without complaint. Even muttering a soft thanks once he was settled again. 

* * *

Keiko gave him a kind smile and pulled the blanket over his hips and legs. "Glad to help. I've got lunch ready for you and I already brought you in some water for your pills." She pointed to the glass that was beginning to sweat as the ice cubes settled. "You can take both of the painkillers at this point." The white pills were already out and laying by the water. "I'll be right back with lunch for you."

Sam had told her he liked hamburgers and since the stew seemed to settle for him just fine, she made him a burger and fried potatoes. She had a can of soup on standby just in case he wasn't up to the burger.

She returned to the kitchen and started the toaster. She turned the heat back up while the bun was toasting and made sure it was all good and hot. Since she didn't know if certain things might turn his stomach, she had all the condiments on a separate plate. Was the bun was toasted she slide the cheeseburger onto it. Carrying the tray she set it across his lap. The plate had the burger and fried potatoes. On a second plate she had cooked onions, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, uncooked onions, and small bowls of bar-b-q sauce, ketchup, mustard and hot sauce. The slat and pepper shaker was also on the tray.

"I wasn't really sure what you liked on your burger so I figured I'd let you decide what sounded good. If you aren't up to this, I also have some soup I can fix you instead. Tomato, chicken rice, chicken noodle, minestrone, probably just about anything. Oh and a can of ravioli too. Is the water good or would you like tea or a coke? Did I miss anything you'd like on your burger?"

* * *

Dean couldn’t say he was too happy about being tucked in but he held his tongue, merely nodding when Sam’s mom mentioned his pills. He was definitely ready for a couple of those, even more so than lunch. After popping the pills back with some water, Dean found the remote and turned on the television as he waited for them to kick in and for Sam’s mom to return with his promised lunch. Of course there wasn’t anything on this time of the day except damned soap operas and infomercials. Still, Dean flipped through the channels if only for something to do even if he didn’t watch anything.

He couldn’t deny, he was a little worried about Sam. Even though he knew that Jeff was watching out for the younger boy, Dean was still worried about what might happen. Dean didn’t think that Eric would risk doing anything to Sam himself, not after the incident with the police yesterday, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t goad some other shithead to take a shot at Sam. After Eric had taken Dean down so thoroughly yesterday, his reputation wasn’t going to do any good keeping Sam safe either.

When Sam’s mom finally returned with his lunch, Dean honestly had been expecting leftovers or just some simple soup. He definitely hadn’t been expecting a burger with all the fixings he could imagine. Maybe Bobby was right and he _would_ turn into a cheeseburger one of these days. Not that Dean was complaining, not at all.

“I’m good.” Dean replied, his stomach growling a little impatiently and he had to admit it smelled great even though Sam had said more than once that Dean’s burgers were better than his mom’s. Probably best not to tell Sam’s mother that though Dean decided as he fixed his burger up the way he liked and took a bite.

Maybe not as good as his, but still pretty damned good all the same.

“This is great. Thanks.” Dean said, remembering to swallow first. Bobby wasn’t wrong. He could definitely be charming, when he wanted to be. And right now it was definitely in his advantage to get on the Japanese woman’s good side. 

* * *

Keiko settled in a chair watching the young man seem to enjoy the lunch she made him. That pleased her a good deal. She took pride in her cooking. "I'm glad you like it. Sam said you liked burgers. He called, by the way. He's doing fine. He wanted me to tell you that when you woke up."

"After you're done eating, I can bring some movies in for you if you'd like, or cards for solitaire. There are plenty of books if you like reading. I don't imagine you're the board game type, but I could play a round or two of Yahtzee of chess or something if you wanted. I also have…well, I didn't know if you'd like to keep yourself busy doing something you probably enjoy. You don't have to do anything of course, but I thought I'd make the offer. My gun hasn't been cleaned in about four months, and I usually don't let it go that long. I also have some throwing knives that need sharpening and…I didn't know it you'd be interested in learning how to sharpen a samurai sword. It's very different than sharpening a traditional knife or sword. You didn't seem keen on my teaching you archery techniques, so I don't want to offend you or make you feel like you have to do any of this. I'm simply offering you some options. Sitting laid up in bed makes me buggy and I have to do something or I go crazy." She hesitated a moment, watching him. "…so, does anything spark your interest? Or should I just go away and let you watch…" she glanced at the TV, "As the world turns."

* * *

Dean had to admit, he was much relieved when she mentioned Sam had called. He hoped that meant there had been no trouble. It was hard to believe there wouldn’t have been any trouble though. But surely if there had been anything that Jeff couldn’t handle, he would have brought Sam home, or Sam would have asked to come home. Dean wished he could have talked to Sam himself though, since there were obviously some things that the younger boy might not feel comfortable telling his mother. Or better yet, if Sam had come home for lunch like the younger boy had mentioned yesterday.

When Sam’s mom went on to ask him if there was anything he wanted to do after he was done eating… movies might not be bad. Sam had mentioned they owned a few old classic monster movies, that wouldn’t be a bad way to waste a few hours he supposed. Cards might not be bad either. He had a feeling any books they had in the house would just bore him to tears though, and an almost horrified expression crossed his face for a second when she mentioned _board games_.

Besides, he was sure Sam’s mother had much better things to do than attempt to entertain him.

However when she went on to mention cleaning her _gun_ or sharpening a few of her knives for her… a samurai sword? Seriously? No, he hadn’t been thrilled at all with her dishing out her little archery tips. But that had been when he thought she just did it for ‘sport’. Shooting arrows into paper targets and shooting them into monsters were two very different things, after all. Now? He didn’t know what the hell to think of her.

When she asked him if he’d rather watch the soap his channel surfing had landed on, Dean looked at the television then quickly grabbed the remote and shut it off with a shudder. Great. If that didn’t ruin his reputation, nothing would.

“You some kind of hunter, or what?” Dean finally asked as he set the remote back down on the bed. The spell bag, the weapons, the protections she said were around the house, the fact that she knew what he and Bobby were, it was all pretty obvious at this point, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

* * *

She saw the concern pass over Dean's face with regard to Sam but also saw his relief. "He wanted to make it home for lunch but Jeff was held over by a teacher so they didn't have time," she told him.

She saw him considering the offers of movies and such she made and almost laughed at his look when she mentioned board games. Her family tried to have a game night once a week, but that was mostly to give the family quality time together. It made them all set aside whatever they were doing and sit down with one another. Had Dean ever even been given a chance to play board games? A lot were filled with strategy though some were just luck and fun. She really thought he might enjoy a couple of the games but she wasn't going to push. That he didn't play chess surprised her a little, but then Bobby didn't seem like the chess playing type and she suspected the young man might not have the patience for the game.

The way he positively perked up when she mentioned the samurai sword made her smile to herself. He actually wouldn't be able to do most of it if it needed to be sharpened from a rough restoration. Hers was in good shape and just a light sharpening was all that was needed. Even so, he would have difficulty with some of the moments. Fine polishing he would be able to do in his currently injured state though.

She couldn't help her laugh when he practically scrambled to get the TV turned off. His next question didn't surprise her and she had more or less been ready for it.

"At one time," she conceded. "In my younger days, with my family. Once the women are married, or sometimes the men who don't have the necessary skills, we become caretakers of the hunter lore. We are responsible for keeping the stories accurate, for copying over the journals and scrolls when they become aged. Our family members call on us to provide them the accurate lore if they are encountering something they have not encountered before. Our children are spared the burden of becoming hunters, but they often become caretakers. Sometimes caretaker children go on to hunt, just as some hunter children choose to become caretakers. In general though, the men hunt and their male children become hunters and their female children become caretakers. The caretakers teach the female children the lore and their own children may know very little of the details. As I am the only one of my family in America, Sam will become a caretaker. He knows the stories. He is accurate with the bow and with knives of all sorts, and with a sword and sling and slingshot. I suppose I should have taught him how to shoot a gun. We have gone out on a few rare occasions to the gun range, but honestly, if he needs to shoot, I'd rather he use a shot gun. Generally more efficient. I have already made plans to provide him with such when he is seventeen. He doesn't particularly like guns though. I haven't taught him hand to hand which it appears I should have. I'm honestly not very good at hand to hand. I prefer ranged weapons when possible. My size," she shook her head, "doesn't lend itself well to hand to hand."

She sighed. "I have not told Sam the stories that he knows by heart are true. He doesn't know that monsters are real. I have taught him to read Japanese, both ancient and modern, as well as many of the eastern languages. I wanted him to grow up without worrying what was in the dark. I wanted him to be able to have a childhood free of such terrors. Soon…soon I will have to tell him. Soon the family will expect him to assist with the research. Jim…he knows nothing of this. I haven't decided yet if I will tell him. We have had a good life, a quiet life. I have occasionally hunted since I was married, but only a few times."

 

* * *

So she was a hunter. At one time… well, that was better than being a witch, Dean supposed. Still, Dean didn’t understand why all the subterfuge. If she had once been a hunter, she had probably made him and Bobby the first time she saw them, or at least, the first time she came over to the salvage yard. The protections were easy to miss if you didn’t know what they were for, but a hunter wouldn’t miss them. Unless they were a piss poor hunter, Dean might not like Sam’s parents all that much, but even so she didn’t seem the piss poor hunter type.

And if she was a hunter why wouldn’t she tell Sam? Dean remembered Sam telling him how his mom told him stories about how to kill monsters, but the younger boy only thought they were stories, not real. Sam didn’t know how to fight, not even to take care of a ‘bully’ like Lancaster.

Yeah, being a hunter sometimes sucked. But what if something supernatural went after Sam? The younger boy wouldn’t have a chance. How could she just not tell Sam the truth? Then again, had Dean told Sam anything about what he was? No. He hadn’t wanted to tell Sam he was a hunter… because he hadn’t wanted Sam to think he was some kind of freak. Dean had even lied about yellow eyes… ok, so maybe he couldn’t really blame her for keeping Sam in the dark.

Dean was silent for a long time, debating whether or not to ask.

“Were you the one who told him about Yellow Eyes?” 

* * *

Her brow lifted at the mention of Yellow Eyes. "I've told him nothing about the yellow eyes he sees sometimes in his dreams. He rarely elaborates. Heat. Orange glow. Screaming, and sometimes a yellow-eyed dark figure. He doesn't seem to remember much most time. I try to make certain any monster movie we watch doesn't have something with yellow eyes. It usually brings on one of his night terrors. When he uses the dream bag, he can usually sleep through the night."

She glanced at the watch Dean had on. Her son's watch. "I see he thinks you need protection," she said, indicating the watch. "I'll have to get his new one out and give it to him. I don't like him being without it." She sighed. "I do wish it helped against human monsters. If I could even begin to pretend that bastard was possessed I'd happily cut him in half. Then exorcise him. Can't blame an old hunter for getting the sequence mixed up, you know." she smirked. "Or I wish I knew a witch that owed me a favor. Ah, but any that did wouldn't curse Eric like he deserves to be cursed. Like having his dick shrivel up and fall off."

She tilted her head and looked at Dean. "So what do you know about Yellow Eyes?" She was surprised her son had even spoken of it to Dean.

 

* * *

Her words didn’t reassure Dean, not one bit. He had rather hoped that what he’d told Sam was true, at least for Sam. That he must have just seen yellow eyes in some monster movie and that’s why he had nightmares of the yellow eyed man. Or, knowing that Sam’s mom used to be a hunter, maybe the yellow eyed demon had been one of the stories she had told him as a boy…

Dean looked down at his wrist when she mentioned Sam’s watch. He’d honestly forgotten he was still wearing it. Protection? Dean hadn’t taken it off or examined the watch since Sam had put it on him, but knowing what he knew now, he wasn’t all that surprised that apparently there was some kind of protection on it. His mother must have told Sam it was for protection… and Sam had given it to him. That thought made Dean smile a little.

Though her words regarding Eric made Dean snort softly in amusement even though he knew she was being completely serious. He didn’t blame her, considering he’d been having much the same thoughts. If there was a chance he’d get away with it Dean would be all too happy to do the honors of castrating the mother fucker for what he’s done to Sam. Maybe Bobby would know some kind of spell though that would work just as well…

When she asked him how he knew about Yellow Eyes Dean looked up from his wrist to meet her eyes again. He debated whether or not to tell her. She was a hunter. She wouldn’t call him crazy. But he’d been reluctant to even tell Bobby… but if Sam had actually seen Yellow Eyes at some point…

“Bobby thinks it’s a demon. I saw it… when I was four. It killed my parents.”

* * *

Keiko straightened at Dean's words. "A demon?" Concern crossed her face.

When they had adopted Sam, she knew he had been orphaned, but the agency they went through told them little else, other than the baby was something of a handful and the agency wasn't sure it was a good match, this being their first child and all. After some serious discussion she and Jim agreed to take Sam anyhow. Really, he wasn't a handful except for his nightmares and the strangest things would set him to crying. She remembered once she had nicked her thumb cutting up some vegetables and had stuck it in her mouth to suck off the blood that has welled up until she could get to the sink. The child had reacted horribly, and though only two, wouldn't let Keiko or Jim near him for the rest of the day, not without screaming and fighting them. He had finally worn himself out and fell asleep in the corner with his blanket. He was better the next day, but whenever he saw the bandaid on her hand, would get upset. And then there were his nightmares that didn't ease until she made the dream-bag for him. He loved playschool and often tried to latch on to the coattails of boys a few years older than himself wanting hugs and kisses and to play with them. There had been one young boy who had a little brother about Sam's age and was tolerant of Sammy's needs. If an older boy pushed him away, he would sulk and cry and hide. Yes, she supposed he had been something of a handful in retrospect but he just had his idiosyncrasies that surely any child had.

Sammy was about two when he talked of the yellows eyes he saw in his nightmares. After about five, he stopped mentioning them for the most part. Though he would say that sometimes he felt like someone was watching him when he slept. That was when Keiko gave him the silver stiletto of keep at his bedside. She had also gotten him a new bed. One that had an iron frame to support the mattress and box spring and she had used iron wire to close any gaps. The hunter in her didn't know what might be haunting her boy, if anything real, but silver and iron was the best she would do. The iron pipe and salt in the attic should have been enough to ease her mind, but attacks on her boy? She had decided to go the extra yard in hopes it would help.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Keiko said, though she was careful to keep sympathy out of her voice. A hunter didn't want sympathy and it generally just pissed them off. "I can't imagine coming face to face with something like that, especially at such a young age. And yellow eyes means an upper level demon. Quite a way to push you into hunting. But we all have our reasons for why we hunt. Sam doesn't talk about the details of his nightmares much anymore. Just usually he's quite upset and says it’s the same old thing. Is he still having nightmares of the yellow eyes?"

* * *

Dean frowned slightly at her reply, not so much what the Japanese woman said but what she didn’t say. The expressions he saw flicker across her face, all too expressive, much like her son’s. He could see she was alarmed that they suspected Yellow Eyes was a demon, but there was something else too. Something that stretched during the length of silence… that made him think she might be intentionally keeping something from him. Something important, about Sam…

Like maybe she knew, or at least had some kind of an idea, why Sam was having dreams about a demon, she just wasn’t telling him. Maybe she, or her family, had pissed the demon off some time when she’d been a hunter and now it was looking for Sam for revenge or something. The idea that a demon, a ‘high level’ demon at that, the same one that had killed his parents and destroyed his life, might be gunning for Sam fucking terrified him, but she seemed remarkably calm about the whole thing.

Yeah, they all had their reasons they started hunting, something that happened to open their eyes to what was lurking in the dark. Most of the time it involved the death of someone they loved, the last thing Dean wanted was for that demon to be the reason Sam’s eyes got opened.

Then again, maybe it was nothing. Maybe they were just ordinary dreams. Maybe Dean was just overreacting and the worst Sam had to worry about was that bastard Eric, and not some demon coming after him.

Dean finally shrugged, poking at his cooling food on the plate but not really interested in eating anymore.

“We didn’t talk much about it.” He replied. When Sam had mentioned the yellow eyes in the restaurant, Dean had done his best to change the topic quickly. Now he wished he hadn’t. 

* * *

Keiko wanted to push him but could already see it had upset him. "Please, eat. Demons, monsters, they'll still all be there if your stomach is full or empty. Apparently my burgers don't match up to yours. You'll have to tell me your secret ingredient that makes Sam rave about them."

"I knew there was a hunter in the area. I didn't realize there were two. Of course, with the things I've heard, it wasn't hard to guess it was Bobby." She laughed. "Confuses the hell out of people when he shows up at church and then has long conversations with the priest there and that they're obviously friends. So are you Bobby's nephew or god son? If you don't mind me asking. If you do, then forget I did."

* * *

Dean snorted softly at her words. He supposed she had a point. Besides, there wasn't much he could do about it right now, considering he couldn't even get up to take a piss by himself. So he started eating again, even if it was slightly less enthusiastic than before. When she mentioned Sam raving about his hamburgers, Dean couldn't help but smile a little. He wasn't sure he really _wanted_ to tell her his 'secret ingredient'. The way Sam went on about his mother's cooking, Dean kind of liked that he could produce at least one thing that the younger boy liked better.

When she mentioned how it wasn't hard to guess that there was a hunter in town and that it was Bobby, Dean gave a nod. She had a point. Any other hunter would have picked up the signs that another hunter was in the area. Given the rumors about Bobby and him, no, it wasn't very hard to guess. If you were a hunter… if you weren't, then Bobby was just a crazy, devil worshiping, drunk that lived out at the junkyard.

So, yeah, he supposed it was kind of strange given all the rumors, especially the devil worshiping crap, that Bobby went to church. Dean didn't particularly like going to church, he definitely wasn't the praying type at all, but the priest there had helped him with his Latin and teaching him to make holy water. Even though he could do both now, Bobby still dragged him along to church every once in a while, to Dean's displeasure.

Dean was a little bit surprised why she asked how he and Bobby were related. Why did she want to know? What did it matter? Well, wasn't like it was a state secret anyway. Most people already knew, at the school at least, that Bobby was only his guardian. Then of course there were the rumors of how Dean had killed his real parents… but she already knew that wasn't true.

"Neither. I ran away from my last foster home when I was twelve. I lived on the streets a while after that, moving from place to place. I hid out in Bobby's junk yard for a little over a week before he found me, he took me in." Dean finally replied, giving a small shrug. "He's got a soft spot for hard luck cases."

* * *

Orphaned. Seeing his parents killed by a demon. Last foster home implied he had more than one and that didn't surprise Keiko, not on a couple levels. If the young boy told anyone a demon, or even a 'thing,' killed his parents, well, they'd probably send him to a shrink and medicate him. Until he was 'stable,' it was unlikely he would even be put up for adoption. So a troubled kid that no one would listen to, who suffered a trauma that was probably never properly dealt with because they wouldn't believe some thing did kill his parents, yes that added up to a mess. If Dean were a little younger, Keiko would want to just sweep him into her arms and hold him and tell him he wasn't crazy and everything would be okay. But she figured Dean was a little old for mothering that way. Dean had been taught to hunt and channeled his anger and frustration into something useful. Unless he had to come to a family picnic of course. She almost chuckled at that. And the memory of him trying to avoid her in the salvage yard. Yeah, he was pretty rough around the edges, and not someone she would want to run into in a dark alley, but he seemed to care a lot about her son. He was probably just a 'diamond in the rough' as they say.

Since mothering him and any sort of sympathy were definitely out, she decided treating him as an equal would probably work best. Yeah, he was young, but a hunter was a hunter and obviously he had seen hard times and grown up faster than any child should have to. Well, she might have to mother him a little bit but that was just the way she was.

"Nothing worse than everyone thinking you're nuts," Keiko said with a shake of her head. "People are such idiots. Glad you found Bobby. And glad he takes in hard luck cases. I imagine that soft spot probably helped save Sam and I think that soft spot must be contagious since you've taken to looking after Sam like he was family."

Not wanting to make Dean feel awkward she changed the subject. "So not going to 'fess up about your secret ingredient huh?" she teased him. "Hmmm, maybe I'll try to bribe it out of you with some chocolate cake or something. Ice cream is Sam's Kryptonite. So cake? Pudding? Ice Cream? Pie? I figure Sam will probably like some comfort sweets tonight after being at that damned school all day. So let's hear it. What dessert would you like to have with dinner tonight? I thought lasagna might be good for dinner if you like lasagna?"

* * *

Dean was again surprised by her reply and laughed softly even though it was less in amusement than agreement. Yeah, Dean knew exactly what it felt like everyone thinking you were crazy. Too bad he didn’t understand the consequences of that when he was a child. If he’d known they would take his brother away from him because he was ‘crazy’ and ‘dangerous’ to the younger boy… Dean sighed heavily, losing his appetite again, this time for good. Yeah, sharing and caring time was definitely over.

Though Dean couldn’t help but wonder how much of him wanting to help Sam had been because of Bobby’s tendency to take in strays rubbing off on him… or maybe something else. Maybe Sam kind of reminded him of his baby brother? Which was just dumb because he hadn’t seen his brother since Sammy was a baby, but still they shared the same name and Sam was a few years younger than him… and he dreamed about yellow eyes…

No, it had to be just a coincidence. The odds were just too damned astronomical. Hell, the odds of him and Sam getting together in the first place were astronomical. If Eric hadn’t tried to… rape… Sam that day, if Sam hadn’t been able to get away from the bastard, if Bobby hadn’t been on his way home from a drop off that day, if Sam hadn’t been on the road hitchhiking home at that exact time, if Bobby hadn’t seen Sam, if Sam hadn’t tried to flag Bobby down, if Bobby hadn’t stopped and picked Sam up… if Dean hadn’t decided to help Sam… So many damned if’s. Besides… Sam couldn’t be his brother, Sam had a family of his own…

Yeah, Dean had a lot of reasons to be glad that Bobby had a soft spot a mile wide for hard luck cases.

Feeling a little bit awkward where the direction of their conversation had gone he was glad when Sam’s mom decided to change the subject. Only giving the Japanese woman a smirk when she complained about him not sharing his ‘secret ingredient’ with her, though when she mentioned bribery he raised an eyebrow. Ok, he was curious. When she mentioned pie, Dean couldn’t deny he was tempted. She was actually going to make a pie? Dean didn’t think he’d ever had a homemade pie before.

When she asked if he liked lasagna, Dean shrugged.

“Never had it. Pie sounds good though.” He admitted.

* * *

Keiko sensed that she was handling Dean correctly. He was beginning to smile and laugh and lighten up a little instead looking at her like she was the enemy. She knew that flat out had to do with the fact she was a former hunter. There was a kindred spirit that hunters had. Yeah they tended to be leery of each other at times, but once respect was won, it was kept.

Dean was a handsome young man and it seemed such a shame his world was so entrenched with darkness and sadness. Bobby, she had to admit, she liked, liked a lot. He was fun to talk to and he understood Japanese, and he was, well, just a nice guy. He and Jim had hit if off extremely well, which pleased her even more. Even though she was out of hunting, she couldn't deny she wouldn't mind talking 'shop' with Bobby or Dean. It was her job, after all, to ensure hunters of her family had all the information they might need that she had access to. She also had to admit, she didn't think she would mind expanding that "family" to include the two hunters. There was a lot of American lore she didn't know or have access to and if Bobby were to give her access to some of his books, she could enhance and expand the knowledge that might someday help her family. In a world grown smaller with ease of travel, some supernatural creatures could potentially migrate across continents. It made sense to befriend hunters in America though she had never tried to seek any out, since the ancestors seemed determined to wrap the two families together, then it must be for a reason. A logical reason was that they should be exchanging information.

She gasped at Dean's answer. "Never had lasagna? Never had lasagna! Oh, I will have to speak to Bobby about that atrocity, that crime to the taste buds. Then we are definitely having lasagna tonight. And pie. Easy enough. I should have plenty of apples to make some pie and I'll have Jim pick up some vanilla ice cream on his way home. Hmm, might even do some dutch apple pie. That sounds good for a change. Fattening beyond fattening, but," she laughed, "so's lasagna. If you're going to do it, do it right I always say."

She pushed herself to her feet. " Incidentally the watch is blessed and prevents demon possession. It's engraved with St Benedict, though the script "may the holy cross by my light" on the cross is there, the other part is left off since it says "may the dragon never be my guide." The Gold Dragon is sacred to my family. Just so you know what you're wearing and what it offers. The outer ring holding the watch crystal in place is high quality silver, too. Not enough to do any damage, but it will make something pull back so you at least know you're dealing with something evil. Okay, so what would you like to do to while away the hours? Clean and sharpen weapons or watch movies, or something else?

 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at her disbelief that he’d never had lasagna, and wondered if she really was going to say something to Bobby about it. No, probably not, but it was still kind of amusing all the same.

It wasn’t that Bobby didn’t feed him well. In fact, Dean didn’t have any complaints about Bobby’s cooking. It was just they were both so damned busy most of the stuff they made at home was quick and easy and while they were on the road hunting they ate at diners and fast food. Dean certainly never felt like he went without or was missing anything just because he’d never had lasagna before.

Apple pie easy? Really? Huh… Well, Dean couldn’t deny he could get used to this too. Even if it meant he’d probably have to work out twice as much to make sure he didn’t get out of shape.

Dean found himself looking down at the watch again when Sam’s mom started explaining to him the protection it offered. Sam obviously had no idea what kind of a gift he’d given him… he really should give it back to the younger boy. Especially now that he knew it wasn’t just a watch but offered powerful protection against evil. Dean didn’t want Sam to be without it.

“Might as well clean and sharpen.” Dean replied, looking back up at Sam’s mom when she asked him what he wanted to do. Yeah, movies were ok, but he had spent enough time sitting on his ass doing nothing. If he had to keep sitting on his ass he might as well do something useful. 

* * *

"Clean and sharpen, check," she said. She retrieved her gun from her bedroom along with the cleaning supplied and newspapers, then got the throwing knives and sharpening stones. Lastly, she retrieved her katana and tanto, a knife that went with the sword. With them she brought in her case of sharpening and polishing tools.

The katana and tanto she tended to every couple week, making certain they were oiled and kept free of rust, but she didn't always take the time to check the edge and polish them. While she knew the edge was fine, it wasn't as perfect as she would like it to be and hadn't sat down to add the finesse she had been wanting to. She unsheathed the sword reverently, bowing to it, then opened up the case.

"You won't be able to do this first part, but I can show you how to do it," she told Dean. She laid out a mat and put a few blocks of wood on it, then placed a fine grit natural stone on it. She slowly and carefully began sharpening the blade, pulling it toward her, sliding it over the stone in motions Dean would be unable to make with his injured side. She explained the various stones used, the powders and polishing tools involved, skipping any history lesson and keeping to the method and technique only. This stone was the finest before the polish because it really only needed some minor touchups. After that, she went through the examples of the series of polishing stones that the blade needed.

"If you feel up to it, you are welcome to polish the blade. The matching knife, the 'tanto', needs the same work as the katana," she pointed to the sharpening stone on the floor, "but I'm not sure that won't hurt your side." She picked up the stone and set it in with the polishing stones and tools that she then set on the bed. "You can try if you like, maybe be able to do it in your lap. All swords and knives are of course sharp, but the Japanese steel tends to be sharper than most realize. So I know, a needless caution, but handle with care. And don't fret about screwing anything up during the polish. These are well used training and hunting weapons. I've shown you all the polishing techniques if you want to shine the blade to show its folds, but really only the finishing polish of the edge is needed. I'll leave you to work. Give a shout if you need anything, water, snack, whatever." She picked up the tray of dirty dishes and headed toward the door. 

* * *

While Sam’s mom was gone Dean finished off a bit more of his lunch, figuring she’d scold him or something if he didn’t, then put the dishes aside on the end table. He was a bit surprised with all the crap she returned with. He never would have imagined it took so much to sharpen a sword. It certainly didn’t take that much to sharpen the knives he had at home.

Then she removed the sword from its sheath… and ok… maybe Dean could see the point in having so many tools to sharpen the sword. Even now the blade looked sharp enough it could probably literally split hairs.

In spite of himself Dean couldn’t help but watch in rapt interest as she went about sharpening the blade. He couldn’t deny he was a bit disappointed when she said he couldn’t do this part, but he understood why once he saw the technique. Yeah, probably would hurt like a motherfucker with his side all fucked up. Still, he tried to commit the motions and everything she was telling him about the different stones, powders, and other tools used to memory. Maybe he would get the chance to try it out later on one of his own blades or something. Given the wicked edge to the katana, there had to be something to the method. Dean could imagine going up against a vampire with a blade like that, it would probably cut through flesh and bone like butter.

When she said he could try the technique out on the tanto that went with the sword, Dean nodded. Maybe the shorter blade would be easier to work with. He was eager to give it a try. When the Japanese woman left with the dishes, Dean went to work. Not surprisingly his first few attempts were rather pathetically clumsy. Even though he’d paid attention, it wasn’t easy figuring out the right way to hold the blade and move in a way that wouldn’t hurt his side too much. But after a while the motion became more familiar and he thought he was doing better, even if it wasn’t perfect. It would take a hell of a lot more practice before he was perfect at it.

Once he figured he’d sharpened the blade about as well as he could, Dean went about polishing both the tanto and katana the way he’d been shown. Curious, he checked the sharpness of the sword against his own thumb and he was right it probably would split hairs. Dean barely touched the blade and it had nicked open his skin. He stuck his thumb in his mouth for a few moments to slow the bleeding before he continued.

Finishing with the katana and tanto Dean sheathed the blades and set them aside, turning his attention then to the more familiar weapons. Since he was already in the ‘groove’ he started on the knives first. They were a good set of throwing knives. Well balanced and well maintained. It didn’t take long for Dean to hone them to a wicked edge. Then he went to work on the gun. Extracting the clip and removing each bullet, alternating silver and iron rounds, nice. He then went to work taking apart the gun and carefully cleaning each piece. 

* * *

Keiko was pleased with the amount of work she got down. So often she was out on the road taking photographs of weddings and advertisements and whatever else came up, that getting all the paperwork done often kept her busy later than she would have liked. She had a chance to get paperwork caught up and edit pictures and arrange albums for the clients and handle email and organize her calendar. She might have to start doing this once every couple weeks. Try to get a day 'off' working from home to get everything caught up instead of pulling extra hours after all the photo shoots. If things kept going so well though, she might be able to actually open her own studio within the next year or so. Of course then she'd probably be working even more hours. Still she would talk to her boss about getting a day off to get everything caught up. She felt like she was doing a better job on all the layouts and albums that she had had a chance to do in far too long. Her boss was the type that would push until you pushed back. Maybe it was time to push back.

Looking up at the clock she gasped. How had it gotten so late already?

Since Sam would be home within the hour, Keiko thought she better go check on Dean. She brought him in a cold Coke and small bowl of potato chips, along with some wet wipes to clean his hands and a towel to dry them off. "You all worn out or would feel up to peeling some apples?' she asked as she checked over his handwork, nodding in definite approval of the blades. For a first time job on the tanto he did pretty good. It could use a bit more polishing here and there, but that was only for show, not for practicality, so it wasn't really important. She suspected that Dean might enjoy learning how to make the blade show off the waves of the layered metal. Maybe tomorrow if he was interested.

* * *

Dean looked up when he heard Sam’s mom come into the living room. Only realizing after he happened to glance at the time on the VCR at the same time how long he’d been working. He was just finishing up with the handgun, clicking the last piece in place and returning the rounds to the clip. Good timing. He found he was a little thirsty too, so he gave a small nod of thanks for the soda and snack.

He snapped the clip back into the gun and took the offered wipes and towel first to wash the oil from his hands. Considering chips and gun oil didn’t sound all that appealing. However when she asked if he wanted to peel some apples now if he wasn’t worn out Dean couldn’t stop from making a slight face.

Was he worn out? Well… not really… but his side would probably feel better if he laid down for a while now. He had been sitting up for a pretty long time now.

“I think I’m gonna lay down for a while.” Dean replied as he wiped off his hands on the towel. 

* * *

Keiko nodded. He had been up for quite awhile. "You're overdue for one of your vicodin, too," she said with a jerk of her chin toward the pill bottles. She first returning the gun and cleaning supplies to their location in the bedroom. She couldn't help but do a double check of the clip before placing the gun in the night stand. She came back for the throwing knives and regular sharpening equipment and put them up, then carefully gathered the katana and tanto, doing a final check on them out of habit, made sure everything was secure in the toolcase, and carried them out. She came back a final time. Dean had resettle himself so he was lying down and she suspected he would be out like a light in no time. He had the remote in reach and seemed to have everything he needed. She gathered the dirty wetwipes but left the towel. "You need anything, just give a shout," she told him as she left the den.

With Dean handled, she got dinner started. Everything should be ready about the time Jim got in, thought the pie would probably have a good half hour of baking left.

*  
Sam got out of Jeff's car and gave him a nod of thanks.

"I'll be here Monday to pick you up unless Winchester calls and tells me otherwise," Jeff told him. "And Sam, that's really one fucked up school."

Sam gave a soft snort. "Yeah, tell me about it. I think I get why it's such a big deal to have on your records. You have to be out of your mind to go there and actually survive those assholes."

"Amen," Jeff said and gave him a final wave before pulling away from the curb. Sam sighed and headed into the house. As soon as he walked in the front door he could smell the lingering scent of cooked hamburger. He dropped his stuff on the couch and walked out to the kitchen.

"How's the day go, Sam?" Keiko asked as she was spreading the pie dough into the pan.

"Okay I guess. I only get tripped a couple times and an elbow in my rib once. One of them slammed the locker on me so I have a nice bruise on my back. Jeff nailed the guy in the chest with his elbow, so I think the guy will have a worse bruise than me. How's Dean?"

"He's doing fine. Probably asleep by now."

"What's for dinner?"

"Lasagna. Can you believe Dean's never had it before? Garlic bread, salad, and dutch apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Unless you're not hungry."

Sam's mouth was watering as soon as she said lasagna. He was going to get a snack, but not with that dinner looming in his very near future. "Oh, very hungry," Sam assured her.

"Go check on Dean. I would appreciate some help with the salad in about a half hour."

"You bet. Just yell at me."

Keiko nodded and watched her son disappear into the other room.


	12. Chapter 12

When Sam's mom mentioned his pills, Dean nodded and reached for the pill bottle, popping one into his mouth, and swallowing it down with a pull from his Coke. He actually wasn't hurting _that_ badly right now, but he knew if he waited too much longer before taking his painkillers it probably would get a lot worse.  


  
He munched on a few chips and finished off the soda while Sam's mom put away the weapons and cleaning supplies. Once the couch bed was mostly cleared off again, Dean laid back down. Finally he closed his eyes and decided he might as well nap a little until Sam got home so he wouldn't spend all his time with the younger boy sleeping like yesterday.

It actually didn't take Dean long to fall asleep. Maybe he was more worn out than he thought. Soon after he closed his eyes, the dreams started. But these dreams had nothing to do with fire, death, and yellow eyes. Rather they had everything to do with the beautiful hazel eyed boy that had infatuated him from practically the first time Dean laid eyes on Sam.

The first time they had made out was here in this house. In the basement while Sam's parents and Bobby were outside having a fucking picnic. In Dean's dreams though, he and Sam didn't stop with a little kissing and a hand job.

Dean had Sam spread out on that pool table, completely naked except for the light sheen of sweat that had formed on his skin as Dean fucked into him. Sam clutching at him, whimpering, arching his back and neck with every deep thrust, and biting his lip practically bloody to keep from crying out with pleasure. Dean couldn't stop the groans of pleasure from spilling from his lips even though Sam tried to keep silent.

"Sammy…"

* * *

Sam walked into the den and immediately saw that Dean was dreaming and thrashing around a bit. Dean called out his name and Sam rushed to his side, ready to shake him out of the nightmare when he realize Dean had a serious woody sprouted. He glanced over his shoulder. His mom would definitely be out in the kitchen for a bit yet. At minimum they had ten minutes, but maybe as much as a half hour. So long as his mom didn't have to go to the bathroom or something. Okay so he really shouldn't be doing this. He should just wake Dean up…but…

Sam grabbed towel that was there. It seemed clean. Pulling back the blanket he undid the button on Dean's jeans and unzipped them. God, it sounded so loud. And the groans Dean was making, he had to keep Dean quiet. He pulled Dean's undershorts down, put the towel over Dean leaking cock, pulled the blanket back up, then plastered his mouth over Dean's. He reached under the blanket and towel and began to slowly jack him off. He prayed he could keep Dean from shouting out his name, but the blanket was in place and he could just blame it on a nightmare…he hoped. He cupped the back of Dean's head with his free hand to make sure he kept his mouth over Dean's and when Dean groaned, he pushed his tongue inside. If his parents caught him, he'd melt into the floor or explode into flames from embarrassment. At the same time, he couldn't deny the thrill going through him at doing this, just like the thrill when they'd done it in the basement. There was no doubting if he was having a wet dream, to wake up to Dean really being there, really jacking him off, that would be just a little bit more than awesome as hell.

* * *

Fuck, Sam felt so good. So hot. So tight. He’d never fucked a virgin before, and it was even better than he’d imagined it would be. He was already close, so damned close. He tried to hold off, wanting to make it last longer. But it was hard, so damned hard, Sam felt so damned good…

Then the younger boy was kissing him and Dean’s next louder groan of pleasure was muffled by Sam’s mouth covering his own. He felt the other boy’s tongue push its way into his mouth and Dean eagerly twined his own tongue with the slick muscle. Reaching for Sam to pull the younger boy closer to him, damn, he just couldn’t get close enough.

Dean’s hips began to lift, his hard cock thrusting into the younger boy’s hand wrapped around him… wait… Sam’s hand? The young man’s momentary confusion was quickly washed away by another wave of pleasure when Sam squeezed him and turned his wrist just so, fuck that was good, and Dean decided he’d figure it out later. He didn’t care as long as Sam didn’t stop, and Dean made his appreciation known when he moaned again and began sucking on Sam’s tongue in his mouth.

Not long now. Not long. His cock was already weeping, his own fluids slicking the way a little as he thrust into the younger boy’s grip. One final groan and he was coming in Sam’s hand. 

* * *

Sam couldn't deny he was getting a little hot himself, a little hard as he stroked Dean and kissed him. When Dean started really responding, obviously waking up, his jeans were definitely getting a tad uncomfortable. He couldn't swallow back his own groans as he felt Dean's cock sliding in his hand. It was a turn on he hadn't really expected. And then his hand was drenched in cum and he felt his own body react sharply and he let out a muffled moan into Dean's mouth. Holy crap. He'd just come in his pants. Okay now if his mom walked in on that… He felt his face color a bit as he pulled back from Dean.

"Afternoon," Sam said with a grin, running his hand through the cum on Dean's stomach before pulling his hand out enough to grab the towel and use it to clean the cum from Dean's stomach that the towel hadn't stopped. He admired the flushed look to Dean's face and the slightly swollen look to Dean's lips. He'd really missed having Dean at his side. Yeah, Jeff had done a good job keeping him safe, but he missed it being Dean's arm over his shoulder or around his waist. It had kinda hurt when someone made a snide comment about Sam whoring about and how ironic was that? It was the damned school kids that had the "sponsoring program." Somehow he didn't figure a lot of the sponsors necessarily kept their little whores all to themselves. He figured Eric would have eventually made him available to his group of 'friends.' Jeff whispered to him to him not to worry about it, but it bothered him all the same. He wouldn't cheat on Dean, dammit. They were boyfriends. And boyfriends didn't cheat, not when they were going steady and well, that was Dean and his relationship, wasn't it? …He hoped it was.

Sam leaned in and kissed Dean again, being very thorough, almost like he was claiming Dean and making sure Dean didn't ever want to kiss anyone else ever again. When he finally came up for air he said, "I take it that wasn't a nightmare." Giving Dean an almost hard look. "And that better have been me and not Betty-Sue the cheerleader or something."

* * *

Dean was breathing more than a little heavily when Sam finally broke their kiss and he could only stare up at the younger boy with something akin to awe. Had Sam really just… woken him up with a hand job?

Well, the come slicking his stomach and the younger boy’s hand still wrapped around his dick pretty much confirmed that. Sam had woken him up with a hand job. In the younger boy’s living room. In the middle of the afternoon. When anyone could have walked in on them… That was so kinky… Dean couldn’t help the shit eating grin that spread over his face as Sam went about wiping him down with a towel.

He was still grinning when Sam leaned in to kiss him again, and Dean cupped the back of the younger boy’s neck moaning softly at the sheer possessiveness in the kiss. Giving back as good as he got from Sam, letting his tongue play in the younger boy’s mouth until he was breathing even harder when they finally parted.

At Sam’s look, and his almost jealous words, Dean couldn’t help burst out laughing.

“I’m not the one with the cheerleader fetish, Sammy.” Dean teased, still grinning. “Actually, I was dreaming about fucking you over that pool table you’ve got downstairs.”

* * *

At Dean's admission, Sam felt the heat rise in his face. "Shh! Mom's just in the kitchen!" Sam said. "A 'yeah' would have been just fine. And I do not have a cheerleader fetish," he insisted. "It was just the one girl. And you wouldn't look good in a mini-skirt."

The thought of Dean in a cheerleader outfit made Sam laugh. "Yeah. Definitely not something I'd want to see. I'd have to gouge my eyes out or something." He looked at Dean. "Pool table huh? Well…maybe one day we'll come here after school instead. Course the nosy neighbors might wonder at all the sounds coming from the house. And I'm not really sur I could ever play another game of pool on that table with my Dad ever again." Sam thought about it and shook his head. "Nope. No pool table." And evil grin slipped onto his lips. "Bobby's desk might work." He grew a little more serious and added, "But let's make it a bed the first time, okay? Yours. Mine…nah, I'd rather it be in yours."

He gave Dean another quick kiss. "I better get rid of the evidence. Mom wants me to help make the salads up in a few minutes." He looked down at the blanket covering Dean. "Do you need a fresh blanket too, or are you good? I don’t' want my parents walking in to see a wet spot there. And I, uh, kinda need to change my pants before mom sees me." He glanced down at his own groin and grinned a little sheepishly.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Sam’s blush and the worried look on the younger boy’s face. Sam had woken him up with a mind blowing hand job and _now_ he was worried about his mother in the kitchen because Dean was talking dirty?

The older boy only smirked at Sam’s protests that he didn’t have a cheerleading fetish… then started talking about _him_ in a cheerleading outfit. Dean raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised by the fact that Sam had thought of that or that the younger boy had said it aloud without blushing more. Talk about kinky.

Well, he was glad that wasn’t something Sammy wanted to try. Dean was willing to experiment quite a bit, and he’d do almost anything for the younger boy if Sam really wanted it. But Dean drew the line at wearing a dress. A miniskirt at that.

When Sam started talking about the possibilities of them actually making his dream a reality, Dean couldn’t help but grin. Oh yeah, that he would definitely like to do sometime. The thought of Sam blushing every time the younger boy used the table for pool after that made Dean chuckle. Though a look of almost horror crossed his face when Sam mentioned Bobby’s _desk_. That was just… gross.

Dean shook his head. He was creating a monster.

“My bed. Alright.” Dean replied with a smile at the younger boy’s request when Sam’s expression turned more serious. Dean definitely liked that idea. Having Sam in his bed, Sam’s first time… yeah, he liked that idea a lot.

Then Sam mentioned having to wash his hands because he would have to go make salad, and Dean snorted so hard in amusement it almost hurt.

“I think I’m good.” He replied regarding the blanket, and then couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to Sam’s crotch when the younger boy mentioned his need to change. Sam had come in his pants just from giving him a hand job, damn if that didn’t make him really hot. Dean let his hand come to rest on Sam’s inner thigh, running his palm up as he pushed up to give the younger boy a less quick kiss.

Dean gave the younger boy’s cock a few gentle squeezes, knowing how sensitive Sam would still be, before he broke their kiss with a grin.

“That was really hot, Sammy. I wanna make it up to you… later.”

* * *

That Dean agreed to sleep with him the first time in his bed instead of wanting to do it someplace like the back seat of the Impala, or the kitchen table, or the pool table pleased Sam even if when he thought about it he felt a little nervous flutter in his stomach. He was actually going to let a guy—a guy—do him. Dean had a pretty damned big cock and he wondered if it would hurt a lot. But Dean would never hurt him. At least he wouldn't mean to, so that meant it probably wouldn't hurt, not much anyhow. He hoped not. He didn't think sex would be fun if it hurt all the time. And Dean seemed to really enjoy it when he stuck his own fingers up his ass when he was masturbating. Dammit he wished Dean would hurry up and get better so they could try some of these things out and Sam could be sure he wanted to walk this particular path and walk it with Dean.

Kissing Dean back he felt Dean's hand on his thigh and groaned softly when Dean squeezed him. Shit that felt good and he really wanted more. He wanted Dean to reach inside his pants and run his hand over Sam's cock which was already begin to twitch again. He was a bit disappointed when Dean broke their kiss though he liked that Dean wanted to make it up to him. He just kinda wanted it to be now instead of later. He probably had another ten minutes or so, right? His pants were already soaked. Glancing over his shoulder he listened hard. His mom was still definitely in the kitchen.

Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, he bit it and then with a slight flush, whether from excitement or embarrassment he wasn't sure, he undid his jeans. He opened the zipper. Taking Dean's wrist he brought Dean's hand to his cum soaked underwear. "Jack me off now?" he asked hopefully if a bit shyly. "But fast, just in case Mom calls."

* * *

When Sam glanced over his shoulder nervously, Dean was about to pull his hand away from the other boy’s crotch. Sam was obviously worried about them getting caught, which Dean knew he should be worried about too. Hell, what they’d already done was really pushing it. The last thing they needed was one of Sam’s parents to catch him in the middle of groping their son, and for them to slap him with a statutory rape charge. Especially now knowing that Sam’s mother was a former hunter. If she didn’t cut off his balls herself, she might make _his_ dick shrivel up and fall off.

So Dean was a bit surprised when instead of telling him they should really stop now, Sam unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Leading his hand back to his dick and asking him to jerk him off even though he’d just come. Damn, to be fifteen again. Dean smiled.

“Alright.” Dean replied, wondering if they both weren’t a little crazy for doing this. Now. It would be much ‘safer’ if they waited until later, when Sam’s parents were asleep or something. But maybe the possibility of getting caught was all part of the thrill.

Dean started rubbing Sam through his underwear first, already feeling the younger boy’s dick beginning to twitch and harden under his touch. Feeling how wet Sam was, how much the younger boy had come without even being touched at all the first time, was a definite turn on as well.

“Christ, you’re so wet, Sammy. So hot…” Dean breathed, before slipping his hand into the waistband of the younger boy’s underwear. He wrapped his fingers around Sam’s cock and began to stroke him, the younger boy’s come providing more than enough lubrication as his fingers slid up and down the hardening shaft.

“Missed you today…” He admitted, rubbing his thumb around the younger boy’s crown, stroking him a little faster. 

* * *

Sam was pleased when Dean said yes. He swallowed back his moan as Dean caressed him, feeling the wet material slide over his half hard cock. When Dean reach down the front of his underwear he had to bite his lip to keep silent. The memory of Eric's hand sliding inside his pants was almost washed away. Eric had reached in and squeezed, forcing it all on Sam. Dean's hand was gentle, wanting to give Sam as much pleasure as he could.

Sam wanted this so much, he was almost shocked by his desire, especially after Eric's treatment of him. He watched Dean's face and could see how much Dean wanted it too. To be touched by the senior this way had his cock beginning to fill again. though he'd cum the hell out in his pants from jacking off Dean, he hadn't been touched, hadn't been brought off by anything other than Dean's pleasure. While he was very pleased he had brought Dean off there was something unsatisfying that he had come without his own cock being stroke and touched. Dean's calloused hand running up and down his shaft, using his own cum and lubricant, shit, he had to agree with Dean. It was hot and turned him on even more.

Dean's words made him warm all over. Dean had probably slept most of the day, he was asleep when Sam had called at lunchtime but knowing Dean had missed him while he was awake made him feel happy. Dean had missed him enough he'd been dreaming about fucking him on the pool table after all. "Missed you too," Sam said. "A lot. Wanted your arm over my shoulder or around my waist, not his." Seeing Dean's look, he reassured him, "Your cousin isn't into guys."

He threw back his head as Dean began to stroke him faster and his hips began to thrust of their own accord. _Don't make noise_ , he told himself firmly. _Don't make noise!_ His breath hissed between his lips as his hips moved faster, sliding through the slick channel Dean's hand made for him. So good. It felt so good.

"God, Dean, yes," he whispered, wishing he was on top of Dean, thrusting against him, or Dean's mouth instead of his hand was stroking his cock. He needed to be kissing Dean's mouth suddenly as much as he needed Dean's hand on him. He leaned down and captured Dean's mouth, moaning into it.  


* * *

  


Dean smiled in reply to Sam’s words. He liked hearing that Sam had missed him too. He knew that right now the younger boy needed him, and that was a big reason why Sam was with him. If Sam didn’t need protection from Eric, then Sam never would have looked at him twice. The younger boy hadn’t even been into guys before all this happened. While he thought that maybe Sam genuinely liked him a little now, Dean was still certain that one day when Sam didn’t need him for protection anymore that Sam would move on. So it was nice to hear that even today, when Sam hadn’t really needed him, because Jeff had been there to protect him, that Sam still missed him.

Though hearing about how Jeff had his arms around Sam all day made him less happy. Even though he knew it was ‘necessary’, he still didn’t like hearing about it. When Sam said that his ‘cousin’ wasn’t all that into guys… ok that made him feel a little better. But then again, Sam hadn’t been into guys either before…

Yeah, ok, he was a little jealous. Sue him.

He had been worried about the younger boy too. Though he knew that Jeff was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and Sam, he had still hated not being there. Not knowing what was going on. Even though Sam’s mother told him Sam had called and told her that he was all right, Dean had still worried. It was such a relief seeing Sam now, unharmed, not a scratch on him that he could see. Considering how the younger boy had woken him up, Sam was apparently in good spirits too.

Then Sam was throwing his head back in pleasure, thrusting into his grip, and all thoughts of jealousy and worry bled away. Fuck, Sam was so hot. So beautiful. His. All his. Dean sped up his strokes along the hot length of Sam’s cock, whispering soft words of encouragement, his eyes never leaving the beautiful young boy.

When Sam dropped down to kiss him again, Dean eagerly captured the younger boy’s moan of pleasure. Reaching up to cup the back of Sam’s neck and thrusting his tongue into Sam’s mouth as he wished he could fuck into his body, just like his dream. Soon. He hoped. A few more days of healing, he hoped Sam would let him… but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give the younger boy a little taste now.

His hand slid down the length of the younger boy’s back to his ass, and with little preamble, slid underneath the back of Sam’s jeans. Groping and squeezing the firm muscles of the younger boy’s ass and then boldly sliding between the soft downy cheeks. Jacking off Sam’s cock even faster while his fingers found and gently teased over the tight puckered hole.

* * *

The way Dean kissed excited Sam that much more, the way his tongue thrust in and out mimicking the way Sam was thrusting into Dean's hand. Dean's hand behind his head was gentle, holding him, not forcing him. How had he come to care about Dean so much and so quickly? Was it just the sex he wondered but didn't think so. There was a connection between them he couldn't define even though they were from such different worlds.

Feeling Dean's hand squeeze his ass made him moan again even as he felt his balls growing heavier. When he felt Dean's finger at his hole he let out a small sound of surprise. It felt kinda…nice, but he wasn't ready to go there yet. He told Dean he wanted Dean to take his virginity but he was going to have to work up to that mentally. It still made him a little uneasy, a little scared even. He suddenly had a whole lot better understanding why girl's were reluctant to take that last and final step. They didn't seem to regret it and he didn't think he would either, but he wanted it on his terms. Too much of this had started out not being on his terms. And maybe he did only want Dean there first because of Eric, fearful that Eric would get a hold of him and make him afraid of ever being close in that way to anyone…especially Dean…again. If Dean wasn't injured maybe it would have gone that way tonight, but Dean was and Sam just didn't want the tease.

He reached around and pulled at Dean's wrist, and as soon as Dean's hand was out, twined their fingers. He kissed Dean more intensely, more demanding, wanting to reassure him he wasn't upset.

"Not yet. Soon," Sam promised when he broke their kiss long enough to take in a breath. Then he was back at Dean, tangling his tongue with Dean's in battle. The heat filled him, fire scorching him and he squeezed Dean's hand tightly as he felt his balls draw up tightly and his cum spewed across Dean's hand and blanket.

Panting he drew away from Dean. "Don't be upset. I just want it all when we go there. You, me, a bed, all the time we need." He flushed as he smiled and added. "And my mom _not_ in the other room." He kissed Dean lightly. "Is that okay?"

* * *

Sam’s surprised sound was muffled into their kiss, and while the younger boy didn’t immediately stop kissing him he could feel the slight tension in Sam. Dean wasn’t sure whether to stop or continue, but Sam made that clear a moment later when the younger boy grasped his wrist and pulled his hand away from his ass. Whatever worry Dean might have felt from overstepping his bounds however was eased when Sam only kissed him harder and twined their fingers together, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

When Sam finally broke their kiss, the younger boy’s panted words fanning across his swollen lips, Dean managed a slight nod before Sam was kissing him again. Kissing him so passionately it made Dean groan softly in pleasure even though he’d just come not minutes ago.

The thought that all their kissing was going to make it pretty obvious exactly what they’d been doing even if Sam’s mom didn’t hear them, the second she looked at their swollen lips she was going to know, briefly crossed Dean’s mind. But before he could suggest to Sam that maybe they should ease up, just a little, the younger boy was coming into his hand. All he could do was moan softly into Sam’s mouth as Dean continued to stroke his lover’s cock gently, milking him dry.

When Sam finally pulled away from him, leaving them both out of breath, Dean was a little surprised the younger boy could form complete sentences. Even as Sam spoke, Dean’s fingers never stilled on the younger boy’s flesh, though his touch was more tender now than arousing.

“I’m not upset. Sorry, I should have asked first.” Dean reassured the younger boy gently, giving Sam a fond reassuring smile. If the younger boy didn’t want him touching him there yet, that was fine. Sam shouldn’t be apologizing to him anyway, Dean should have asked first. Even though he hadn’t been planning on penetrating the boy with his fingers, he should have at least asked, made his intentions known. Maybe then Sam would have said it was alright for him to touch him there, or maybe he would have said no. But either way it was Dean’s fault for not asking first.

* * *

At Dean's apology, Sam beamed, knowing full well his dimples were showing. "You're the best, you know that? You're so," Sam paused hunting for the right word. What described someone who was thoughtful and caring and gentle? Some one who treasured someone else they way Sam felt Dean treasured him. Someone who wasn't afraid to apologize, someone who was the best damned kisser ever, Sam was certain, even if he didn't have a lot of experience in that department. "Perfect," Sam said. "You're perfectly what I want." He considered a moment longer. "Okay except for not being crazy about my parents, but they'll win you over. I know they will."

Although Sam just sort of wanted to collapse into Dean's arms, he knew he had to clean up. His mom would be calling him soon. He ran his fingers over Dean's slightly swollen lips and wondered if his own lips looked so…kissed. Maybe some cold water would help.

"I'll be back in a few," he said as he used the blanket to clean off Dean's cum covered hand and put his now flaccid cock back in his pants making a face at the chill wetness of his underwear. He gathered the towel and blanket, folding them up then hurried out of the room to the washing machine where he dumped them in and started the machine. He dashed to his room next and dug out fresh clothes then went to the restroom to wipe down and splash water on his face. After grabbing a fresh blanket for Dean and a wet washcloth and towel, he returned to Dean.

"A little evil too, by the way. All I wanna do is collapse beside you," Sam said with a yawn. He handed the senior the washcloth and set the towel and blanket beside him. At his mother's call he glanced out the door. "Be right there," he yelled back. He planted a light kiss on Dean's lips then with a mischievous look, thoroughly ruffled Dean's hair before dashing out the doorway, laughter following behind him.

* * *

The way Sam smiled at him, Dean probably should have been a little embarrassed about his heat doing a little girly flip flop. Talk about ruining his image as a bad ass. But he was starting to get used to the effect the younger boy seemed to have on him. Mainly, turning him into a giant lovesick girl… But when Sam called him perfect and what he wanted… yeah, Dean didn’t really mind. Not one bit.

Though he did roll his eyes a little when Sam mentioned his dislike of his parents, the boy just couldn’t let that go. Maybe Dean shouldn’t tell the younger boy that he was starting to think Sam’s mom might be kind of ok. No, not yet. The jury was still out on that one.

He grinned a little when Sam touched his lips, and kissed the younger boy’s fingers gently before they pulled away. Dean watched unashamedly as the younger boy slipped his cock back into his pants, wishing they had more time. He couldn’t help remembering the feel of Sam thrusting into his hand, kissing him so hard, and the brief touch Dean had gotten of the younger boy’s tight hole. How hot Sam had felt, even from the outside, and how the tight muscles had fluttered and clenched under his fingertips.

Soon, Sam promised. Soon. Though maybe he could convince the younger boy to try a rim job in the mean time. It was worth a shot.

When Sam was done cleaning off his hand Dean nodded when Sam said he would be back. He laughed a little when Sam returned, calling him evil of all things. Well, maybe a little. But he was sure Sam would agree only in the best ways. He gave the younger boy an obvious leer when he took the wash cloth from him.

Though the kiss was welcome he wasn’t expecting the ruffled hair bit, but that didn’t stop Dean from aiming a playful smack to the younger boy’s ass before Sam bolted from the room. Chuckling softly, Dean went about washing himself down, starting with his face to get rid of the slight sweat he’d worked up and finishing with cleaning off his hand, stomach, and groin more thoroughly. Trusting that Sam was distracting his mom enough to give him time to do so.

Once he was done he wiped down with the dry towel one more time then covered back up with the blanket. Hoping he looked presentable now just in case Sam’s mom decided to look in on him or something. 

* * *

"How's Dean doing?" Keiko asked as Sam walked into the kitchen. The lasagna was cooling on the hot pad while the pie was in the oven beginning to bake and Keiko was gathering the dirty dishes from making everything and loading them into the dishwasher.

"Pretty good. He seems more happy than I figured he would be. Did you and him get along today?" Sam asked as he pulled out the salad makings from the fridge.

Keiko smiled. "Yes. Since you've been too busy to sharpen the throwing knives, I asked if Dean would like to. I even showed him how to sharpen and polish my katana and tanto."

Sam piled the things onto the counter. "That worked? Made him happy?" he asked as he pulled out bowls and the cutting board.

Laughing softly, Keiko nodded. "He likes weapons and appreciates them. And there isn't a whole lot an active young man can do when he's pretty much stuck in bed all day. He didn't seem interested in reading or board games. You can only watch so many movies and I figured you two would probably be doing that tonight. I didn't think he would like doing puzzles." She shrugged. "It kept him busy and we talked a little. I think he doesn't think I'm totally," she paused hunting for the right word, "lame? That would be the right word for it I think. He's not use to quiet suburbia and the nuclear family. We could be evil and have a game night tonight."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You got him to kinda talk to you and then you try to sabotage it. Great idea, Mom." Sam said quickly chopping up vegetables for the salad

She laughed at the face he made. "Just didn't want him missing out on the whole family thing."

"Don't think that's really his thing." Sam said as he filled up the bowls and sprinkled them with cheese and croutons. "Wanna bet he won't eat the salad?"

"No bet. Sounds like your father's home," she said, looking from where she wiping off the counter when she heare the garage door. "I know Dean's not up to eating at the table yet so you boys can eat in the den again. Hopefully tomorrow night we can torture him with dinner talk."

"You're trying to make him not like you, aren't you? I'm gonna stop giving him crap about him giving you and Dad a chance if you keep it up."

Poking fun at her son she said, "Touchy touchy, aren't we?"

Sam put two of the salads on the table. "I just want you guys to be friends. I don't like it when my friends and family don't like each other."

Sensing Sam was distraught over it, Keiko put her arms around Sam and gave him a hug. "Don't worry so much, Sam. We don't have to be the best of friends with your friends. We want to like them and trust them, but your friends don't have to feel like part of the family. This is all pretty foreign to Dean, I suspect. He had a rough time growing up and I don't think family was part of it. I don't think trust was either. If the best we get from him is polite respect, that may have to be enough."

"Do you trust him? Like him?" Sam asked, looking into his mother's brown eyes worriedly.

Keiko gave a nod. "I trust him. Do I like him…I like him better tonight than I did. He doesn't trust easily and with us in his territory even though it's our home, he's a little on guard against us. It's not a surprise. Your father had the same issues in some ways." She smiled. "Meeting my family the first time was practically a disaster. He was still pretty rough around the edges and didn't really get the Japanese customs and family ways. And he barely spoke any Japanese at that time too. He felt very out of his element, just as Dean does now."

"Do I hear you talking about me?" Jim said as he walked in and set two bags on the counter. One held the vanilla ice cream and the other was an unmarked brown bag. Keiko gave him a questioning look as Sam grabbed the ice cream and put it in the freezer.

Giving her a sheepish look he said, "I couldn't pass it up. The price was too good. I got the carburetor."

"You told me you didn't know how to put it together, let alone adjust it," Keiko pointed out.

"I'm hoping maybe Dean would be willing guide me through building it. I can put it on the engine myself I think. It'll be awhile before adjusting it comes into play. There's a long way to go before the engine will run. Maybe Dean can take a look at the car when he's feeling better and give me some pointers. Mmmm, dinner smells good. How son will it be ready?"

"As soon as you wash your hands," Keiko said, opening the oven and pulling out the foil wrapped garlic bread.

"Consider them washed," Jim said, going over to the kitchen sink.

Keiko and Sam began filling up the dinner plates and Sam loaded a tray up for Dean and himself. Jim carried Dean's tray while Sam carried his own.

"Evening Dean," Jim said. "Got you dinner. I'll get that sheet up across the doorway tonight. Sorry I didn't get to it yesterday." Jim settled the tray over Dean's lap, then took Sam's while Sam climbed onto the bed beside the older boy. "Want me to throw in a movie?"

Sam looked over at Dean. "Escape from New York? Or a monster movie or something?"

* * *

Dean had to admit the smells coming from the kitchen area were starting to make his mouth water. He was definitely getting his appetite back, which was a good thing. Maybe by tomorrow he’ll be able to get out of bed long enough to at least take a piss on his own. That would be nice.

He was tired of feeling like a invalid, damn it. But at the same time Dean knew Bobby would kill him if he pushed himself too hard too fast. Eric’s all too precise attack had set his recovery back already. The last thing Dean needed was to be set back even further. After all, he didn’t know how long Jeff would be willing to stick around to watch Sam’s back. Not to mention that was _his_ job, not the older teen’s.

Dean sighed heavily, leaning his head back against his pillows as he stared up at the ceiling. At least his ankle was feeling a little better. Eric might have fucked up his side but the sprain wasn’t any worse. Maybe if he could get help just getting to his feet he would be fine walking around a little on his own. As long as he continued to wear the ankle brace for a little while.

Of course, there were other reasons why Dean wanted to recover quickly which were a little more selfish. Soon. Sam had said soon, and god, Dean wanted to be with the younger boy so badly. He had never wanted anyone like he wanted Sam. Though Dean guiltily wondered how much that had to do with the fact that the younger boy hadn’t been willing to give it up to him right away. Would he lose interest once he’d finally fucked Sam? No. He cared about Sam. Sam wasn’t just another fuck to him. Even if Sam hadn’t said soon, even if Sam said never, Dean would still care about him. He still really wanted to fuck the boy though…

Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly at himself. Christ, he was so horny. Even though Sam had jerked him off to wake him up, Dean had been half asleep for most of it. He hoped the younger boy would be up to more making out tonight, once his parents were asleep of course. He decided he probably should stop thinking about sex with Sam now or he was going to get a major hard on right before dinner and that would suck.

He heard the garage door and figured that meant Sam’s father was home. If he listened hard enough Dean thought could make out Sam’s and his parents voices, even though he couldn’t make out the actual words. It made him miss Bobby for some reason and Dean hoped the older hunter was all right. Dean knew he shouldn’t worry. The older man had plenty of capable back up to take down the werewolf, and besides, Bobby probably hadn’t even reached his destination yet much less started the hunt.

It wasn’t long after that that Sam and his father came in with the food that had been driving Dean crazy and his stomach grumbled loudly. Dean was ready to dig in practically as soon as the tray was on his lap. He gave the older man a nod of greeting and thanks. Barely resisting the urge to give Sam a playful eyebrow waggle when he looked over at the younger boy as Sam settled on the bed beside him at the sheet comment. Privacy. Kind of.

“Sure, whatever.” Dean replied at the offer of the movie. He didn’t really care what they watched. They probably wouldn’t be paying too much attention to the movie anyway. Behave, Dean grudgingly reminded himself.

* * *

"Escape from New York," Sam told his father. "Maybe we'll watch Dracula after that."

Jim chuckled and got out the tape and got it started. "I'll be back in to gather the plates—"

"I'll bring 'em out when we're ready for pie," Sam piped up happily. He looked at Dean. "She made Dutch apple pie. The apple pie we got from KFC? It's going to taste like cardboard next to one of Mom's pies, especially her Dutch apple. She only makes Dutch apple pie for special occasions. I think she made it just for you."

"I think you're probably right, Samuel. All right then. I'll get the sheet up in between movies. You boys need anything else?"

After glancing at Dean, Sam turned his hazel eyes on his father and shook his head. "We're good, Dad. Thanks!"

Jim gave a nod. "Just give a shout if you do. Plenty more lasagna and garlic bread."

His focus back on his boyfriend, Sam nudged his elbow. "Mom said you'd never had lasagna before. This will probably spoil any other lasagna for you. Mom's a real good cook."

Cutting off a chunk of lasagna, cheeses stretched from his fork to his plate. He blew across it then put it in his mouth, breaking the strings of cheese. "She likes cheese," he said around his mouthful of food, grinning at him.

As before Sam pretty much focused on the movie, but watched Dean to make sure he liked the lasagna and the way Dean was digging into it, he decided Dean did. "Snake Plisken," he said, pointing to the lead character, "he's so cool. You ought to let your hair grow out, get an eye patch and a tattoo, and then you could be just like him." Sam studied Dean a moment. "Nope. Maybe not. You're cool enough without all that." He laughed at the look Dean gave him. "Besides you have the cool car. That makes up for the tattoo and eye patch."

Snickering at Dean, Sam went back to eating and watching the movie.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little when Sam went on, and on, about his mother’s cooking again. It seemed like the younger boy was always raving about his mom’s food, well, except her hamburgers. At least Dean got those beat. He had to wonder though if that was a normal thing, something boys with mother’s did, or if it was just another one of Sam’s quirks.

Then Sam went on to mention that his mother probably had made the pie ‘just’ for him Dean couldn’t help but snort a little in amusement at that. He wondered if he should tell Sam that she had actually given him his choice of deserts and he’d chosen pie. Maybe not, yet anyway. After all, Sam had promised to make it worth his while if he made nice with his parents and Dean still wanted to collect on that deal.

Ok, so he was a little single minded. Sue him. Sam made him horny.

Dean was glad when Sam’s father finally left them alone.

He rolled his eyes again at Sam’s nudge but he was smiling anyway as Dean dug into his food. Ok, he had to admit, it was pretty fucking good. He was hungry enough that Dean even behaved himself and didn’t try to molest the younger boy while they were eating.

Though when Sam suddenly piped up with his observation that he should grow his hair out and get a tattoo and _eye patch_ of all things, Dean almost choked on his food. Giving Sam a look like the younger boy had lost his mind the way Sam studied him, as though imagining him looking like that. Finally he couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head.

“Tattoo and eye patch, huh? First a cheerleading fetish, now a pirate fetish? You’re even kinkier than I thought, Sammy.” Dean couldn’t help but tease the younger boy with a playful grin. “Or maybe you’ve just got a Kurt Russell crush.” 

* * *

"I don't have fetishes!" Sam said, almost offended, then he looked thoughtful. "At least not yet. You'll have to give me some," he told the older boy with a grin. When Dean suggested he had a thing for Kurt Russell his eyes practically crossed and harrumphed and turned back to the movie. After watching it for a few minutes he observed, "Y'know, he is kinda hot."

Sam gave a sidelong glance at Dean to see if that made Dean jealous. He wasn't sure, but he thought maybe it did, just a little.

"Is liking you in my pants that are a size too small considered a fetish?" Sam wondered aloud. "And the way you smell of leather? And t-shirts. I like you in t-shirts. Ooo, I never thought about wet t-shirt contests for guys before. That might be cool." Deciding if Dean was going to accuse him of having fetishes, he was going to come up with some. "You might be fun in handcuffs. Then I could take advantage of you any way I wanted. Though after getting arrested and put in handcuffs, maybe not. I already know your fetishes. Pool tables. And the back seat of your car."

Sam leaned over and kissed Dean on the cheek. "You're hotter than Snake. Promise," he whispered in Dean's ear, then blew in it and straightened back up, returning his gaze to the movie as he continued to eat. He put the most innocent look on his face that he could.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but snicker as Sam proclaimed, a little loud considering his parents were still up and about, that he didn’t have fetishes. Really, it seemed that the younger boy protested too _much_ every time he brought it up. Made him wonder exactly what kind of kinky thoughts really went through Sam’s brain. The idea of _giving_ Sam some fetishes to enjoy was quite a tempting offer. Dean could definitely think of a few things he might like to try with Sam… of course, he didn’t want to scare the younger boy either. Better start vanilla and work their way up. Though at the same time Dean couldn’t wait to give Sam his first rim job.

Really though, Dean wasn’t expecting Sam to admit that he thought Kurt Russell in the movie was ‘hot’. Especially if what Sam said was true a few weeks ago the younger boy had never even _looked_ at other men like that.

In a way Dean was a little relieved. Maybe he hadn’t ‘turned Sam gay’ so much as opened his eyes a little. At the same time, Dean didn’t really like the idea of Sam thinking other guys were hot besides him.

Then Sam started talking about tight pants, leather, and wet t-shirts and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head. The handcuffs comment made him raise an eyebrow a little though, maybe more at the fact that Sam had said it without blushing. The younger boy’s whisper in his ear made him chuckle again even though he was kind of pleased by it at the same time.

Yeah, he wasn’t buying the all too innocent look that Sam was wearing right now. He knew better. He was creating a monster.

“So, we’ve gone from having no fetishes to having a leather and bondage fetish?” Dean teased, leaning in close to whisper into Sam’s ear. “Or I can pick you up for school in black leather pants a size too small if you want.” 

* * *

Dean's whispered words about had Sam choke on his lasagna, his mind going immediately to that image, his cock taking an immediate rising interest, right along with the flush to his face that followed on its heels.

After he got past his minor choking spell he looked at Dean then glanced down at his plate of food. "Only if you don't plan on making it to school until lunchtime. The only reason we'd go in then is because I'd want to show off my too hot boyfriend in his tight leather. Not that the dress code would allow us to stay on campus long but it would be long enough that everyone would be looking at you and envious of me."

He made himself take a drink of coke, but the image of Dean in tight leather pants just wouldn't leave him. Then the thought of Dean, shirtless, in tight leather pants, cuffed to something over his head came next and Sam groaned a little as his cock took even more interest.

"Damn it," Sam muttered. He glared at Dean. "Okay, one point to you. You just gave me a fetish. Now stop it so I don't have to stop in the middle of my meal and go jack off. And after the movie, notice I said _after_ , I want to know one of your fetishes. It's only fair." 

* * *

Dean wasn’t sure whether to be amused or worried that Sam seemed to choke on his next bite of food thanks to his words. He wondered if the bright red color the younger boy was turning was due to embarrassment, arousal, or lack of air. Though before Dean could start pounding on the other boy’s back or giving Sam the Heimlich he seemed to recover, and Dean didn’t feel bad about laughing then. Now that he knew Sam could breathe.

Given the younger boy’s reaction, Dean might just have to do that sometime in the near future. Dean certainly didn’t mind skipping school in favor of some kinky sex. The idea of Sam wanting to ‘show him off’ after that kinky sex was surprisingly a turn on all on its own.

Maybe he would have to take Sam to a club or something eventually. Sure, clubs weren’t really his thing, he didn’t really like dancing, and it would be a lot harder to pass off Sam as legal in a club than a middle of nowhere bar, but it could be worth it. Especially if it was a kind of kinky sex club where he could grope Sam in public and no one would even look twice.

Dean kind of liked the idea of showing Sam off too.

The older boy laughed again when Sam admitted that Dean had given him his first fetish, and even though Sam has asked him to stop for the mean time he couldn’t help one last tease.

“If anyone gets to jack you off in the middle of dinner, it’s me.” Dean replied before turning back to his own meal. 

* * *

Sam blushed. "Let's stick to eating lasagna."

Dean was quiet for the rest of the meal, which Sam was grateful for and kept his own mouth shut. Watching Snake be all suck-it-up and push through the injuries he took, Sam couldn't help but glance over at Dean, studying his profile discreetly. Yeah, Kurt Russell might be hot as Snake, but Dean had him beat. Dean was the coolest guy he knew, Sam decided. He was kind of a rebel, okay, maybe a lot of a rebel. Drove a pretty cool old car even if it didn't have air conditioning, cared about Sam, tried to look out for him, oh, and was an awesome kisser.

He tried to imagine what it would be like when Sam finally agreed to have sex with him. Would it be all fairy tale, heart fluttering stomach doing flip flops, or hot and wild? Maybe a little of both? He kind of liked the idea of it being a little a both. So sue him. He was a romantic about relationships. Though he never figured he'd end up as the girl in the relationship and he had to face it, he was. That bothered him a little. Even if he got aggressive with Dean, Dean was so much more experienced, Sam figured he'd always end up being the one being fucked and not get to do any of the fucking. He sighed softly at that. Dean had promised he would get him laid—with a girl—whenever Sam wanted it basically, and maybe…maybe he'd find being the girl of the relationship had its advantages. He had the feeling he could ask Dean to do anything and Dean would. Dean would dance naked on the roof if Sam convinced him he really wanted Dean to do that he'd bet.

By the time the movie ended, both of them had finished off every last bit of food on their plates. "Did you want anymore?" Sam asked, though he really wanted to ask him a slew of other questions like when Dean decided he liked Sam. Really, what did Dean see in a geek like Sam anyhow?

 

* * *

Dean merely chuckled softly at Sam’s blush and went back to eating his food. Behaving, for once, since he didn’t want one of the younger boy’s parents coming in and asking Sam why he was blushing and the other boy spontaneously combusting in response. He really should be behaving himself much more than he had been. They couldn’t risk getting caught. But to be fair, Sam had started it with that wake up hand job.

He couldn’t wait until Sam’s parents went to bed.

Dean finished all of the lasagna, and even ate some of the salad that had been on his tray of food. Since Sam had made it. By the time he was done he felt close to bursting, but it had been well worth it. Everything had been pretty awesome, just as Sam said it would be. Not that Dean was going to come right out and say that. Couldn’t make it too easy for the younger boy after all, but Dean was definitely a fan of lasagna now.

“Pie?” Dean answered without much hesitation when Sam asked him if he wanted any more. Even as full as he was the smell of the pie cooking in the oven was enough to convince the young man he could probably fit in a little more. There was _always_ room for pie.

* * *

Sam chuckled at Dean's almost instant answer. "I'll ask mom if it's cooled enough yet."

Moving aside his lap tray he got out of the bed and gathered the dishes, carrying them all out to the kitchen.

"More lasagna?" Keiko asked.

"He's ready for pie," Sam said, "but I think he really liked dinner. He practically licked his plate clean. Is the pie cool enough?"

"It should be cool enough to cut, but it'll still be pretty hot," his mother said and got up from the table. Sam raised an eyebrow. They had candles out and were drinking wine? He grinned at that. So they were taking advantage of Sam being otherwise occupied for a romantic dinner. When he thought about it, he realized he was almost always home for dinner and with the way his parents had been working, they hadn't really been home for dinner and a decent hour, together, in awhile.

"I got it. You and Dad go on back to your dinner."

"We're done," Keiko said.

Jim got to his feet. "And I might as well get that sheet up while I'm thinking about it."

"Use those two woven blankets, It won't damage them and Dean won't have to fight trying to get one swept aside, he can just go right through the middle," Keiko suggested while she got the pie cut and Sam got out the ice cream.

By the time Sam got back with the ice cream and fresh drinks for them, his dad was already on a ladder stapling the blankets in place.

* * *

Dean nodded and watched Sam leave for the kitchen area again. Despite how full he was, the young man’s mouth was still watering a little just thinking about that pie. The smell of it cooking in the kitchen teasing him practically since it was put in the oven. He really hoped it was done.

Of course then his mind started contemplating other ways he might enjoy the pie. Like kissing the taste of it off of Sam’s lips, or licking melted ice cream from the younger boy’s nipples. How they’d be all tight and hard from the cold even before Dean’s tongue went to work on them.

Hmmm… well, Sam had asked for a fetish. That would probably count.

Dean adjusted the blanket over his lap, and it was a good thing he did too because it wasn’t long before Sam’s father came in instead of the younger boy and started putting up a couple of blankets over the doorway. Dean gave the older man a nod of acknowledgement and thanks.

He had to admit, the bit of privacy would be nice. Not that he hadn’t been left alone for most of the day, but they still didn’t need to do that. It was a consideration he hadn’t really been expecting.

When Sam finally returned with the pie and ice cream Dean grinned at the younger boy, eagerly taking his plate and drink from Sam so the other boy wouldn’t have to juggle all of them as he got comfortable again. It certainly wasn’t so he could dig into the pie that much sooner, of course not. Even though he did even before Sam was sitting down again. The sound of enjoyment he made after that first bite was practically pornographic. 

* * *

After Dean practically grabbed the bowl of pie and ice cream, Sam set his down and put "Dracula" in for them to watch then settled back beside the older youth. He laughed at the sounds Dean was making.

"Oh, well since you hate it so much, I guess I'll just take it back…" Sam said then laughed even more at the glare Dean gave him.

He began eating his own pie and he couldn't stop a few sounds of appreciation of his own. "You have to come over more often. Mom like never makes dutch apple pie. Not that her regular apple pie isn't good, but I love the crunchy topping."

He saw his dad was done and called out, "Thanks!" and heard the slightly muffled "you're welcome" in response.

Both boys finished their desserts in record time and Sam collapsed back, patting his stomach. "That was really good."

* * *

Dean definitely approved of the movie Sam popped in the VCR next. Though he _didn't_ approve of the threat to take away his pie. The glare he gave the younger boy was only half playful. If Sam tried to take his pie he was gonna have a fight on his hands.

Wisely Sam didn't follow through with his threat. The noises Sam started making when the younger boy started in on his own pie made Dean grin, however. Hmmm… if he was guaranteed pie, he might just consider stopping by more often.

After practically inhaling his desert, Dean decided Sam had the right idea, and joined the younger boy flopped back like a beached whale on the bed. As the older boy relaxed, he gave an impressive belch and sighed contentedly.

"Yup." He agreed. That was good. Glancing over at Sam, Dean grinned a little and rolled onto his side facing the younger boy. Reaching out he let his hand rest comfortably on Sam's stomach and started rubbing it a little.

* * *

Sam laughed at Dean's loud belch. He was glad Dean seemed to be relaxing more. He knew both his parents were trying really hard and it seemed to be working. Or maybe it was just the drugs.

Suddenly Dean's hand was on him and rubbing his very overfull stomach. He belched a little more discreetly than Dean. Twining his fingers with Dean's he cautioned half-jokingly, "Full. Very full. You don't wanna do that."  
The sudden hard rock music that was Dean's cell phone ringing startled Sam and he jumped. Seeing the laughter in Dean's eyes he gave him a mild glare. "I was distracted. Very distracted. Lemme get it. I don't want you pulling stitches."

Quickly climbing off the bed, Sam dug the phone out of Dean's things and handed it to him. He figured it was probably Bobby calling to check on him.

* * *

Dean snorted a little as Sam burped unattractively in response to his hand rubbing his stomach then outright laughed at the younger boy’s warning.

“Why, doesn’t it feel good?” The older boy asked ‘innocently’ but he ceased the movement of his hand. He hadn’t been planning on doing anything more than what he had been, but he didn’t want to get puked on or something either so he decided to heed Sam’s warning nonetheless. He left his hand where it was though, twined with Sam’s fingers across his stomach. The moment was ruined however by the ringing of his phone, though Dean couldn’t help his amusement when Sam practically jumped out of his skin at the noise.

He was half tempted to remind Sam he wasn’t a complete invalid, and reaching over the side of the bed wasn’t exactly strenuous activity, but the younger boy was already up. So Dean merely resituated himself back onto his back and held out his hand for his phone. Dean checked the number before flipping it open, even though he didn’t need to. Of course it was Bobby, and Dean couldn’t deny the relief he felt at finally getting the older man’s call.

“Hey, Bobby. What’s up?” Dean answered the phone as he motioned Sam over with his free hand then patted the side of the bed next to him. 

* * *

Sam settled down beside Dean practically before Dean answered the call. He listened hard, hoping to overhear both sides of the conversation. Bobby wasn't really hunting a werewolf…was he?

"Hey kid," Bobby said gruffly. "We made it into town, staying at the Trigger Motel. We're going to do some recon tonight, listen to police scanners, you know the drill." Bobby sorted research notes and city maps on the desk as he talked with Dean. "This wolf keeps changing huntin' grounds, so until it attacks, we're not sure 'xactly where to watch for it."

Bobby looked at the map with the various attacks marked and highlighted. He hadn't been able to see any pattern to it except it was along one of two bus routes and the wolf never struck the same place twice. He feel silent and he pulled out the timetables for moonrise and the times of the buses at each stop. Maybe. There was maybe a loose correlation there. He shook himself out of his thoughts.

"So how you feelin'? Doing okay? Colts treatin' you good, right? And tell me you and Sam are behavin' yerselves," he said, looking at some of the notes written in Sam's neat handwriting.

* * *

Dean grinned a little at how quickly Sam got back in the bed beside him though the almost intense look on the younger boy’s face was unexpected. Was Sam trying to listen in on his conversation? Damn... maybe he shouldn’t have encouraged the boy to lay down next to him while he was talking to Bobby. If Bobby said something... not meant for hunter’s ears... and Sam overheard it that could be bad.

The Trigger Motel? Well, that was fitting. Dean tried to discretely shift his hold on the phone to turn the volume down just enough so he could hear what Bobby was saying and Sam wouldn’t.

Yeah... that wasn’t good. Hunting werewolves was a pain anyway since they looked human most of the time. It wasn’t at all easy to track them, and if they kept changing hunting grounds that just made it worse. But hopefully Bobby would find some kind of pattern with the previous attacks before anyone else could get killed.

“I’m fine, just a little sore. Yeah... had lasagna and pie tonight, you missed out. Course we’re behaving.” Dean replied, grinning a little and winking at Sam as he did. 

* * *

Sam knew he had given himself away when Bobby's words grew fainter. He's have to work on the being sneaky bit. It wasn't something he had ever had to be, though he guessed he was being sneaky with the scrapbook he was making for Dean.

Grinning back at Dean he shook his head. They'd been doing anything but behaving. He was tempted to yell that to Bobby, but thought he probably shouldn't. He returned his attention to the movie and took hold of Dean's hand again, giving another soft belch, with a follow up 'scuse me.'

Bobby knew that voice, that smirk that he could practically see on his young charge's face. "Dammit, boy, if you get caught making out with Sam under their roof…" Bobby dry scrubbed his face. "Just watch yerself and try to keep those hormones in check. And keep his in check too. You two can cool it for a couple days. I don't want to be bailing yer butt outta jail for molesting a minor and I gotta feeling Keiko could kick both a our butts if she had a mind to. She ain't the innocent little wife, she's a hunter. Or was. And you know how observant hunters are." 

* * *

Dean couldn’t say that Bobby’s scolding was unexpected. The older man knew him too well and it was true, they’d been doing anything but behaving themselves so far. Yeah, that earlier waking him up with hand job thing was all Sam’s idea, but Dean shouldn’t be encouraging the younger boy. Bobby was right, the very last thing they needed was to get caught by one of Sam’s parents.

He couldn’t imagine their reaction would be anything good, that was the reason he’d told Sam not to tell his parents about them after all. Worst case scenario? Sam’s parents would have him arrested. Or Sam’s mom would castrate him first then have him arrested... Dean winced a little at the thought. He had no doubt the Japanese woman could do it too.

Even if they didn’t have him arrested if they just forbid him and Sam to see each other, that would be bad enough. It wasn't worth the risk.

“Yeah, I know. Ok, Bobby.” Dean agreed, his almost good mood pretty much gone at that point. The reminder of how easy it would be for him to lose Sam... They had enough problems right now, no need to invite more opportunities. 

* * *

Bobby could here the reluctant confirmation in Dean's tone. Sometimes he just wanted to smack some sense into that young 'un. "Good. I'll talk to you soon."

Sam heard the almost defeated sound Dean used there at the end of the conversation and he had a pretty good idea what it was about. The two of them not making out and risk getting caught. After Dean ended the conversation, Sam leaned in and stole a kiss in hopes of taking the grim look off Dean's face.

"Don't worry. I know my parents and we can be careful. Though with it the weekend now, I don't know that we can get away with much. I'll have chores to do tomorrow and homework, but Mom and Dad will probably go to the store at some point, so we ought to get a little time alone. Oh, I picked up your homework too."

At Dean's grimace, he chuckled. "Yeah, I know. But you have to stay caught up."

* * *

“Take care, Bobby.” Dean told the older man over the phone before hanging up with a small huff. Even if Bobby was right, the young man didn’t have to like it. Control his hormones... yeah right... Bobby must have forgotten what it was like to be nineteen. Fifteen in Sam’s case...

When Sam leaned over to give him a brief kiss, Dean offered the younger boy a small smile. Yeah, he’d agreed to be careful and not to encourage Sam... but it was just a kiss.

Chores and homework? Jesus, Sam was such a goody-two-shoes. He couldn’t help but make a face when Sam mentioned that he’d picked up his homework for him. Damn it. Now Bobby would expect him to actually do it. If Sam hadn’t picked it up he could have been let off the hook.

“Now you’re just trying to torture me.” Dean accused even as he started running his fingers up and down the length of Sam’s arm. He was behaving... kind of.

“Actually, I was kind of hoping, when they went to bed?” He offered with a raised eyebrow. 

* * *

"You want to do your homework then? When my parents go to bed?" Sam asked, then began laughing at the face Dean made. He caught Dean's hand in his own. "I don't know. We'll see when they go to bed and if they're weirded out by me still being down here. With you having your nightmare, maybe not."

He gave the back of Dean's hand a kiss. "I've got a feeling they're going to be making their own ruckus tonight. They were doing the romantic dinner bit when I went out for the pie. The bonus to that is they usually sleep deep and sleep in late. Also means they'll probably go to bed early. I usually turn up the TV when that happens." Making a face he added, "Hearing your parents…yeah, just not…" He shrugged. "But actually with you here, they probably won't."

He gave Dean a lopsided smile. "Let's see, okay. I'd…I'd like to but I don't want to get caught either."

* * *

Dean looked at Sam like the younger boy had lost his mind, and he honestly wasn’t sure if Sam was being obtuse on purpose just to tease him or if Dean would really have to spell it out for him. When the younger boy started laughing at him, Dean had his answer, and he rolled his eyes at the other boy. Sam was having way too much fun teasing him. He huffed and then smirked a little.

“Why would they be weirded out? We’re just watching TV.” Dean replied ‘innocently’, then Sam mentioned his nightmares and the older boy shrugged a little with a frown. Yeah, those damned nightmares. Why did he have to have one here? They probably thought he was some kind of pussy, needing someone to hold his hand and tell him stories before bed.

Dean sighed, knowing he was wearing his bitch face now but he couldn’t seem to help it. When Sam mentioned his parents would probably be fucking tonight, Dean made a face. That was about just the last mental image Dean ever wanted. Yep, Sam really was trying to torture him.

“Jesus, Sam. Now I have to bleach my brain.” He complained.

* * *

Sam gave him a strange look. "Bleach your brain? Why?"

Suddenly realizing what he had just told Dean about his parents, a blush crawled up his face. "Oh," he said.  
  
Still embarrassed, Sam tried to focus on the movie. He couldn't believe he even mentioned something like that to Dean. If the senior wasn't staying with them and it was something he told Dean after school or something, that would be okay, but not with Dean here. Talk about making someone uncomfortable. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Snuggling a little closer to Dean he said, "Sorry. I'm an idiot or at least a dork."

Now he really hoped his parents weren't going to be doing anything tonight or he thought he'd just die if Dean heard them.

"So do you think real vampires are like Dracula?" Sam asked. He did all that research on werewolves, no he was wondering if Bobby had any books on vampires. He'd have to look next week when he was over there.

* * *

Watching the bright flush that stained the younger boy’s face to the tips of his ears was almost worth the ‘horrifying’ mental image of Sam’s parents creating little Sam, and a chuckle left Dean before he could stop it. He certainly didn’t mind the way Sam scooted even closer to him, though if his parents caught them practically cuddling together like this it would probably be almost as bad as catching them kissing.

“Maybe a little bit of a dork.” The older boy replied, though there was nothing but affection in his voice as he let his arm shift and drape over Sam’s shoulders. He had to admit, he kind of missed having Sam there when they were walking down the school corridors or across campus. The warmth of the younger boy’s body and how well he fit there, like they were made for each other or something.

There he went again with the girly sappy thoughts... but Sam’s next question made him forget about how much of a chick he was becoming. Vampires? It wasn’t just that Sam was asking about vampires though. It was the _way_ he asked. Sam didn’t ask ‘if’ vampires were real. He asked about _real vampires_. Why would Sam ask that? Did... he somehow know about him being a hunter and now Sam was feeling him out, trying to see his reaction? Had Jeff said something... Dean was going to kill him if he had...

Dean shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about it, and answered the question with a question.

“I dunno. Why do you ask?” 

* * *

Hopeful of a bigger reaction from Dean, Sam was a little disappointed, but Dean did keep his emotions pretty reined in at times. Still he saw a few things cross his face, the hint of a scowl even. Demons…maybe real. Dean may have seen one. Werewolves. Bobby told him to ask his mom. Bobby leaving Dean this weekend and it being a full moon. All the research on werewolves he'd done for Bobby. That strange room in Bobby's basement. Sam was struggling to tie all those loose pieces together and he was hoping Dean might give something away, something to help. If demons were real and werewolves, then maybe so were vampires.

Sam gave Dean a sidelong look. "All those books. I made notes for Bobby on werewolves. All sorts of information about them, some like the legends, some not. I was wondering about vampires. What the books said about them. I figure you help Bobby with his research and thought you might know."

He studied Dean a minute and said seriously. "Would you think I was crazy if I said I thought vampires were real?"

Really, Sam didn't think they were but his mom had told him so many stories through the years. He'd read so much information about all sorts of monsters in his mother's old scrolls and books. He read them so much, at his mother's insistence, he could probably recite most of them by heart. It had been fun when he was younger, but now he tried to avoid her reading lessons. If she had new stuff for him to read, well that would be cool, but he was tired of the same old stories. His memory was good enough that once he read a book, he pretty much remembered it so re-reading them was kinda boring now. There was lore about vampires in the Far East, and some vampiric creatures in Japan, but not vampire-vampires.

* * *

Sam looked... he wasn’t sure, but he thought it was disappointed, and somehow Dean had the feeling that he’d really fucked up this time. Had Sam been testing him? Did he already know vampires were real and was trying to see if Dean would lie to him about it? But Sam’s mom had said she hadn’t told Sam anything about monsters out there, well, she’d told him about them but never told him they were real. That left Jeff...

What if the older boy had told Sam about him being a hunter? But Sam hadn’t acted any differently around him before now, surely if Sam knew he’d be freaked out at the very least. Probably think he was crazy, or that he was some kind of murdering devil worshiper, just like everyone else. But Sam had seemed normal... so what was this all about?

Books... ok, so letting Sam look through Bobby’s books was probably not a very good idea. Not if it got Sam thinking like this, that Dracula was real. But was that such a bad thing? Yes, and no. Most civilians couldn’t handle knowing that monsters were real. Sure some could, like the principal. Others refused to believe the truth even when the proof was right in front of their faces, and while sometimes that pissed Dean off other times it was a blessing. But others... they reacted badly. Really badly.

Dean was afraid of how Sam would react... but his reasons for not wanting to find out how Sam might react were selfish. He didn’t want to risk losing Sam so soon. He knew he’d lose the younger boy one day, but he wasn’t ready to lose Sam yet.

But how could Sam protect himself if he didn’t know what was out there? He’d had the same thoughts when he’d been talking with Sam’s mom earlier. It was the exact same thing with Eric only a lot more dangerous. Sam’s parents had done him no good sheltering Sam from monsters like Eric. Dean was doing no good trying to shelter Sam from the knowledge that monsters were real. And what if later on Sam did learn that monsters were real and got pissed at Dean for lying to him?

Fuck.

Ok, he’d agreed with Sam’s mother that he wouldn’t tell Sam about monsters and hunting and he wouldn’t, but maybe he could ease the younger boy into it gradually. So when Sam finally did find out the truth it wouldn’t be such a shock to him. Or something...

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Dean answered sincerely, looking in Sam’s eyes so that the younger boy would know he wasn’t lying. “There are some old legends about vampires in Bobby’s books, he can tell you which ones. But there’s a lot of differences between those legends and Dracula. The blood drinking is the same, but that’s about it. For instance, the legends say even though vampires are sensitive to sunlight it doesn’t hurt them. Stakes in the heart, garlic, running water, and crosses, also don’t do shit. The only way to really kill a vampire is by beheading.” 

* * *

So Dean believed in vampires. Well, okay, he didn't say he did, but saying he didn't think Sam was crazy was sort of kind of saying he believed in them.

"Beheading?" Sam asked, contemplating. "No poof of ashes then? That's kinda disappointing. I always liked the idea of vampires turning to dust, like time suddenly caught up with all their years of being undead.

"In China, they have vampires too. Same legends of garlic, crossing running water, but salt is like acid to them. They're really vicious, ripping people limb from limb, hot for sex all the time. Sometimes they glow green, get serrated teeth not fangs, and talons. They can turn into wolves sometimes. The don't like really loud noises cause it can kill them and brooms, you can sweep them back to their resting spot. They sleep in coffins, too. They get strong enough and they get covered in long white hair and can fly. The only way to bring them down then is thunder or a bullet, but you have to burn their bodies to really kill them. Iron, rice and red peas would keep them out of the house or their coffins. They're nocturnal but it never really says they can't function in sunlight. Guess they just don't like it. In Thailand, they're more like ghosts gone bad. There's a running theme about vampire cats in the Far East. Cats always get a bad rap. 'Cept in Egypt of course. You'd think that something that catches things like mice and rats would get more respect. I think Humans just don't like something else to be as arrogant as we are."

He saw Dean's look and blushed a little. "Okay, I'll shut up and watch the movie now. I'm sure you don't care about vampires in China."

 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but snort softly when Sam said he was disappointed that vampires didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke like in the movies. Well, Dean couldn’t deny that would be a hell of a lot more convenient than getting rid of decapitated bodies. It would certainly make clean up easier at least.

Then Sam started going on about vampires in China... and he had a really hard time keeping a straight face. Sure the garlic, running water, and salt myths were nothing new. Hell, salt and iron was even a good deterrent for a lot of supernatural creatures, but unfortunately didn’t do jack shit against vampires. But loud noises? Rice and _peas_? And sweeping a vampire out with a fucking _broom_? Who the hell came up with this shit?

He really, _really_ , tried to keep a straight face, but he knew he was failing when Sam looked at him then looked away blushing. The sudden mental image of a big white flying yeti, glowing green, and getting the shit beat out of it with a broom had the older boy cracking up before he could help himself. Laughing so hard in fact his side hurt, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Oh man, when Bobby came back he _had_ to get Sam to tell him that. It would be so worth it to see the look on older hunter’s face.

Still snickering a little, Dean hugged the younger boy and started to nuzzle a little against Sam’s neck. The younger boy’s blush having spread down there by now.

“Don’t believe everything you read.” Dean teased playfully, then nipped softly at the side of Sam’s neck. Fitting perhaps since they were watching Dracula. “So, you’ve got a vampire fetish too?” 

* * *

"I do not have a vampire fetish," Sam said. "Hey!" he said jerking back from Dean's teeth on his neck, but his smile made it clear it was playful than like he didn't enjoy it. "So not fair you're hurt," Sam complained. "You are the one with the vampire fetish I think."

"That's it. You're really a vampire. The son of Dracula!" He tilted his head to the side a little, showing off his neck teasingly. "Nice soft flesh to sink your fangs into." He then straightened. "Bet you have a coffin in the basement to sleep it. I'll have to sneak down there and check it out. See if it's all polished and shiny, lined in red silk, ooo, or black leather. That's it. Your coffin has biker tattoo like pictures on it, metal studs, real dark wood, and a leather interior. Yep. Definitely you," he snickered. "But I'm safe. I have red peas to protect me."

Looking at Dean he poked him lightly in the chest. "And you still owe me a fetish. Told you mine. You gotta tell me yours."

* * *

Dean had to admit, he liked it when Sam got all playful and flirty. Even though he knew that nothing could really come from the teasing, considering they couldn’t really do anything right now while Sam’s parents were awake. Nonetheless, it turned him on something fierce. It probably shouldn’t get him as hot as it did. Maybe he was a bit of a masochist, considering he couldn’t help but encourage Sam even when he was only making himself suffer from blue balls.

When Sam showed off his neck playfully, Dean was really tempted to take the younger boy up on his offer. Not to bite him, of course, but he wouldn’t mind giving Sam one hell of a hickey. Even though he knew he couldn’t. How the hell would Sam explain that to his parents, after all? But it was still tempting. Maybe he could just give Sam a small one...

Though before Dean could take the younger boy up on the ‘offer’ Sam straightened up and started describing his ‘coffin’ and the older boy rolled his eyes a little even as he snorted in amusement.

“There you go with that leather fetish again.” Dean teased the younger boy back, then laughed when Sam threatened him with peas. “What, are you going to beat me with a broom next?”

Then Sam reminded him that he owed him a fetish. He should have known that he wouldn’t get off that easy.

“What, making out with jail bait isn’t enough of a fetish?” Dean asked playfully, and at Sam’s look the older boy laughed. “All right...”

Dean thought for a moment then grinned a little evilly.

“Public places.” 

* * *

Sam liked making Dean laugh, liked the way his eyes lit up. He had never been any good flirting with girls, getting all tongue-tied and stuttery, but with Dean it seemed to come so easily. He didn't like how easily Dean made him blush mostly because he couldn't do the same to Dean. His vengeance was of course, getting Dean all hot and bothered. He liked Dean's protective streak, too. He had never had anyone be protective of him like Dean was. Sure Dean was supposed to be his protector and all, but he knew even if he told Dean to get lost, that Dean would step in and still protect him, probably cursing a blue streak in the process. And that gave him the warm fuzzies all over.

He laughed at the jailbait comment, though it did bother him just a little. Dean really could get in trouble for being his boyfriend. Girls dated older guys all the time though he guessed a fifteen year old girl dating a college freshman probably would raise some eyebrows. Their relationship hadn't exactly started out consensual, Sam did it because he thought he had to, but he knew now Dean wouldn't have made him. And now, Sam was glad he had done it in the basement with Dean because it had developed into something more, and it had all happened so very fast. When Dean gave his fetish, Sam nodded.

"Making out in public places…I can do…" Sam's eyes widened. "You mean having sex in public places?" Shaking his head he said, "Uh-uh. No way. The warehouse is public enough."

Dean's grin made him shake his head again. "Don't even think about it. I'd die if someone caught us. Burst into flames in embarrassment and turn to ash like Dracula. Nope. A different fetish. You gotta tell me a different fetish." 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the younger boy’s wide eyed expression when Sam finally understood what he’d meant by ‘public places’. The blush that stained the younger boy’s cheeks and his firm denial, it was just too damned cute.

Dean knew he was being evil, but he couldn’t help but tease the younger boy more now. Sam was just asking for it, really.

“Aww, come on, Sammy. Just think about it.” Dean said, dropping his voice a little as he scooted closer to the younger boy. Practically whispering in Sam’s ear. “You and me. A dark movie theater, sitting in the back row all alone. The movie is playing, no one is paying attention to us.”

His hand came to rest on the younger boy’s inner thigh, gently moving up and down almost lazily.

“I start to touch you. Running my hand along your thigh, working up, once you’re all hot and bothered I take out your cock and start playing with it. I kiss you to help you be quiet while I jack you off slowly.”

Of course Dean wasn’t going to do that now, not when Sam’s mother or father could walk in on them at any second, but he could see how his words were affecting the younger boy.

“Maybe if you can be really quiet, I’d get on the floor and take you in my mouth, and suck you off until the credits roll.”

Of course he never really expected Sam to try to give him his fetish, he thought they were just being hypothetical about it. He knew just making out with Sam in public was a recipe for disaster, given the fact that Sam _was_ jail bait. But there wasn’t anything wrong with fantasizing about it, was there? 

* * *

Sam squirmed a little as Dean slid closer to him and his hand drifted up and down his thigh. His eyes sort of glazed over as he imagined the scenario Dean was describing. It wasn't the jacking off that really did him in, it was the thought of Dean on his knees on that soda pop sticky cement floor, between his legs and giving him a blow job that sent blood straight to Sam's cock.

Shaking himself out of the sexual fantasy, he glared at Dean and smacked his hand. "Evil and Dean are both four letter words, you know that," Sam complained. Now Dean had him wishing his parent would go to bed because he just couldn't get the thought of Dean sucking him off out of his head. Could he be quiet though? Quiet enough they didn't get caught? He would freak at any noise he heard, coming from either of them or from the house. They'd already done way more than they ever should have with his mom in the other room.

It would be so much easier if he could just tell them he and Dean were in a relationship, but being sexually active, and in the house…he didn't figure they would approve of that, at least not until Sam was a little older. His dad talked to him every once in a while about possible girlfriends and safe sex, and that he really ought to wait until he was sixteen or seventeen to get into a sexual relationship. And then all the stuff about being careful, not getting a girl pregnant, and all of that. It was always embarrassing, though his dad kept it as short and painless as he could and still make certain he got his point across.

"Someday…maybe," Sam finally said. "But I want a different fetish for now. C'mon you gotta have something else that you'd like." Sam leaned in and whispered. "Tell me your dirty secret dream…that doesn't involve sex in public."  


* * *

Dean smiled, quite pleased with himself, as he watched the affect his words had on the younger boy. The way Sam’s eyes got a kind of far away look, like he was imagining Dean doing exactly what he described, and the younger boy had already proven to have a vivid imagination. He might have just found another fetish for the boy. Talking dirty. If Dean could grin any more he’d be the Cheshire Cat.  


  
But when the younger boy finally blinked, almost like he was coming out of a daze, and slapped his hand away, Dean couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He moved his hand off of Sam’s thigh obediently and flopped back on the couch bed, deciding not to tease Sam anymore until they could actually do more about it.

Maybe he was evil, but Sam seemed to love every minute of it.

Dean grinned up at the younger boy when Sam finally admitted maybe they could try it one day. With a few words, Sam had gone from ‘no way’ to ‘maybe’. Progress. Damn, that would be hot.

He couldn’t help being a little surprised though when Sam insisted, again, on another fetish. Dean raised an eyebrow at the boy as Sam asked him for his dirtiest secret fantasy. He couldn’t be serious... could he? Boy obviously didn’t know what he was getting into. A week ago, he’d made an ‘eww’ face when Dean had licked come off him. He’d made it again when a couple days later Dean had described rimming to him. Now Sam was begging him to describe kinky fantasies?

Boy learned fast.

Dean thought for a few moments, then gave the younger boy another smile that was way too innocent considering their conversation.

“How about this then... I wake up, and I’m already tied down with leather straps, spread eagle. You’re naked, kneeling on the bed, and ready to have your wicked way with me. You’re touching me, all over. After I’m squirming and begging, you let me suck your cock and lick your ass, just like that while I can’t move. You come down my throat, fucking my mouth, but you don’t let me come. I’m so fucking hard it hurts. Then you move down, straddling my hips as you guide me inside you. You feel so fucking good, so tight, as you ride me but you don’t let me come. Not yet. Not till I’ve made you hard again, and I watch you jack off while you move over my cock. You come all over my chest, your head thrown back, screaming my name and finally you let me come inside you.”

* * *

Sam stared wide-eyed at Dean as Dean described what he would like to do with Sam one day. Leather straps. Spread eagle. He…okay, he liked that idea. Touching Dean and making Dean squirm the way Dean did to him. Yeah, yeah that was good. Giving him a blow job and coming down his throat. It wasn't hard to imagine straddling Dean and fucking his mouth. He liked that…a lot. But licking his ass? That just sounded…how could that, well, taste good? Rim jobs and licking and it all kinda baffled Sam. He had asked Dean to make love to him, to fuck him. There had to be something to it. Sliding on to Dean's cock sounded kind of painful and riding him until he jacked off and came and then Dean…came inside him. There was a _squick_ factor there, no denying it. On a couple different levels.

Sam licked his lips and tilted his head, studying Dean. "Explain it to me," Sam finally said. "Does it…taste good to you, the…licking and rimming? Or is it something you do only because it's supposed to feel good to me? And does…when we have sex and you…you know, push inside me. Is that something I do for you because it feels good for you, or will it feel good for me, too? Won't it hurt? I mean, you're…big. And will I feel it, when you…come…inside me? Does that feel good for me too?"

Girls were easy…but he guessed he never considered if it would hurt a girl if he pushed his dick inside her. They stretched to compensate for size, right? And it felt good for them. Was that the same thing for guys? That they would both get lots of pleasure out of it of pushing into the other? Did guys have anal sex with girls? He recalled hearing some things while he was hanging with Eric that said they did. He remembered Cody's girlfriend telling Cody she wanted him to "butt fuck" her.

He stared at Dean, almost painful curiosity in his eyes. If he was going to be in a sexual relationship, he wanted to understand and it wasn't like he could ask his dad about this. He didn't have anyone to ask _but_ Dean.

* * *

Dean could clearly see the emotions in the younger boy’s eyes as he described in X-rated detail what he hoped to do one day with Sam. Heat and interest at first, then doubt, and maybe even a little disgust mingled with fear by the end. Not exactly the reaction the older boy had been hoping for...

Dean tried not to look disappointed, but wasn’t sure if he pulled it off or not. Then Sam was asking him to ‘explain’ it to him. Ironically enough, this was where Dean felt a bit of heat flush into his cheeks. It was one thing to admit a dirty fantasy aloud to his lover, it was another to have to give a ‘sex talk’ and explain what got him off clinically in detail.

“Well... it doesn’t taste bad. I mean, as long as you wash...” Dean blushed a bit more, yeah, awkward. “Ears taste a hell of a lot worse to be honest. I like making you feel good, I can get off on that just as much as, you know, you doing something to me.”

Dean paused for a moment, wondering exactly how he was going to explain anal sex. He didn’t want to scare Sam but he wasn’t going to lie to the younger boy either. Sam should know. Dean had found out the hard way.

“Not gonna lie to you, Sammy, the first time anal sex can hurt a bit. It can hurt a lot if its not done right, if you’re not prepped enough or if its too rough. You have to use lube and stretch the muscles with fingers first. It might still hurt a bit even after that, but that goes away pretty quick and it can feel really good for both of us. As for the... coming... part, some people like it, some don’t. Too messy I guess... gonna be messy anyway, but I can wear a condom if you want...” Dean shrugged and cleared his throat, knowing by now he was blushing way more than he wanted to admit right now. 

* * *

As he listened to Dean answer his questions the very last thing he expected from the senior was to see him blushing about it. After everything he had tried to get Dean to blush and talking sex from the guy who obviously was very experienced in it made him blush? Dean was a conundrum, no doubt about that, but Sam would definitely file that tidbit of info away for future revenge.

Since he figured he would eventually want to try rimming Dean if it felt good when Dean did it to him, he was relieved to know that washing first was on the agenda. That didn't sound so bad then. It was just skin then not…nastiness.

Lubed and stretched first sounded reassuring in its own way. Okay, so it would hurt some. He figured it would hurt a lot, and he couldn't help but wonder if Dean was just saying that it didn't hurt a whole lot because he was afraid it would scare Sam. But if there was lube and stretching, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And Dean said it would feel good pretty fast. As far as the condom went…well, if he didn't try, he wouldn't know if he liked it or not. So the first time, no condom, and he'd see how it went.

Sam was silent as he processed everything then he met Dean's gaze and gave an almost shy smile. "Okay. That helps." Smiling a little more he said, "Now I know you have a fetish about being tied up." Breaking into a big grin he added. "And I thought I was the only one that could turn so bright red. I think you're redder than that pillow."

* * *

Sam was silent for a while after he was done talking, not looking at him, and Dean wondered if he’d explained it badly. Damn it. It would suck if he’d just made Sam change his mind about wanting to have sex with him. Maybe he should apologize... and say what exactly? Sorry for freaking you out about the details of gay sex?

Then the younger boy looked at him, smiling a little, and Dean let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. As awkward as it had been, he was glad it had helped. He hoped that meant that Sam still wanted to try it eventually. When Sam teased him about having a bondage fetish, Dean rolled his eyes a little.

He’d only really mentioned that because Sam had seemed to have an interest in bondage and seeing him in leather and he’d wanted to see the younger boy’s reaction. Sam had seemed to like that idea quite a bit actually. To be honest the idea of being tied down, helpless, made Dean rather nervous. But he trusted Sam, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He was willing to try it at least.

When Sam mentioned his blush however, Dean gave the younger boy a playful glare and then grinned devilishly. Reaching for and smacking Sam upside the head with the previously mentioned pillow with a laugh. 

* * *

"Hey!" Sam complained when he got whacked with the pillow. Grabbing a pillow of his own he returned the favor until they were in an all out pillow fight. Neither were at their full striking potential because Sam didn't want Dean to strain his stitches and Dean was being careful not to twist to much. Even so, the muted sounds of pillows smacking flesh were coupled with loud laughter.

The fits of laughter that were suddenly muffled gave Keiko a pretty good idea of what the boys were up to. "You break anything and I'll have both your hides!" Keiko yelled down the hall.

Glancing up at hearing his mother's warning, Sam gave Dean the perfect opening and Dean practically knocked him over with the blow.

Sam glared at Dean and smacked him back. "No fair!" Sam said. "I was distracted!"

* * *

Dean laughed at the indignant squawk that Sam made when he hit the younger boy with the pillow. He was pleased, if a little surprised, when Sam retaliated with his own pillow. The other boy had been so paranoid before about him ripping out his stitches, Dean wouldn’t have been surprised if Sam had scolded him instead for being ‘childish’ or something.

He rather liked the playful mood that Sam was in, and the idea that maybe he was the cause of it. Sam had been having such a rough time of it lately, it was nice to see him smiling and laughing as they smacked each other with pillows.

Dean didn’t think he’d actually had a pillow fight before, except maybe a long time ago with his father... Dean had a brief flash of himself in Batman pajamas, jumping up and down on a bed and swinging a pillow almost as big as he was at his father’s head. A deep rich laugh, followed quickly by his own squeal and giggling as he was knocked over by another pillow.

He wasn’t even sure if it was a real memory, or only one he wished he had. He had so few memories of his family, he wasn’t even sure if any of them were real except the night of the fire. How fucked up was it the only clear memory he had of his family was of the night they were stolen from him? Dean squashed down on the intense pang of longing he felt in his chest before it could blossom into real pain. Really, he should be used to it by now.

He could tell that Sam was pulling some of his punches, so to speak, and that was fine with him. Even though he felt better he’d rather not rip out his stitches again any time soon. When Sam’s mom called from down the hall and Sam turned his head, he used the younger boy’s distraction to his advantage by aiming a well placed blow to his head nearly knocking the younger boy off the bed.

Dean laughed again as the younger boy recovered and hit him back.

“Always use an opponents distraction to your advantage.” He replied sagely, though an unexpected yawn on his part earned him a smack in the face with a pillow.

* * *

Sam readily took advantage of Dean's distraction though he knew he probably shouldn't. It was just too good to resist though. Sam smiled smugly. "You're right. Distractions are good."

He laughed at the glare Dean gave him. "Hey, I'm a fast learner, or haven't you figured that out yet?"

That Dean was worn out was pretty obvious. His eyes were beginning to losing their sparkle and he just looked tired. It was probably time for Dean to take more of his pills too. Although Dean had said he wanted to have some 'fun' after Sam's parents went to bed, Sam would be surprised if Dean didn't sleep through the night. Especially after Dean did the night time ritual of restroom, brushing his teeth, washing his face, and all that. Surely that exertion would finish him off. The big pasta meal was probably going to help Dean fall asleep and sleep soundly. He and Dean had been pretty busy, relatively speaking, since Sam got home from school and he didn't know how much Dean had slept during the day, either.

Snatching Dean's pillow from his grasp Sam's face grew more serious. "You probably ought to get some sleep. I've abused you pretty good since I got home. Let me go get Dad, so he can help you into the bathroom and you can brush your teeth and stuff. You probably ought to take another one of your pain pills, and one of your antibiotics."

Sam brushed a short lock of hair off Dean's forehead. "You want me to sleep down here with you again?"

By no means was Sam ready to go to bed, but he probably would be in an hour or two. He could wait until Dean fell asleep, then sneak off and do some work on Dean's portfolio for an hour, then join Dean for the rest of the night. He couldn't deny he liked having Dean here with him. He also couldn't deny he was looking forward to Dean being all healed up and maybe spending a night at Bobby's with Dean. He could probably convince his parents to let him stay over on a Friday night. Weeknights, probably not. Maybe by next Friday Dean's side would be healed up enough for that. 

* * *

Dean glared at the younger boy’s smug look though there was no real heat in it. He certainly couldn’t disagree with Sam. The boy was a fast learner. A really fast learner. Dean supposed he just had to take the good aspect of that with the getting smacked in the face with a pillow.

When Sam grabbed the pillow he relinquished his ‘weapon’ without much fight, though he did eye the younger boy a little warily at first. He certainly wouldn’t put it past Sam to smack him with both pillows. It was something Dean would be tempted to do after all. But when Sam started getting all mother hen on him, telling him he should go to bed, it became obvious that fun time was over.

Dean huffed softly. The pillow fight hadn’t exactly been the kind of messing around he’d been hoping for tonight.

“Fine.” No, he was not pouting. Ok, maybe a little. When the younger boy offered to sleep with him again tonight though, he couldn’t stop the slight smile from pulling at his lips.

“If you want to.” He replied.

* * *

Sam grinned at him. "Yeah, I can do that. I'll go get Dad so you can brush your teeth and stuff." He lightly planted his fist in Dean's arm. "And stop your pouting. It's going on ten and you need sleep to get better. Time you get done with everything and settled into bed, it'll be ten-thirty and you'll be totally wiped. I bet by tomorrow you'll only need help getting up. If you rest."

Sam leaned in and planted a light kiss on Dean's lips then went out to get his dad. He called out before entering the living room, not wanting to catch his parents making out. When he came in, his mom definitely looked a little disheveled and for that matter, so did his dad.

"Dean's yawning and looking tired. I think he probably ought to get his teeth brushed and stuff before he falls asleep. Unless you want me to come get you at two in the morning when he decides he needs to use the restroom."

His dad kissed his mom on the cheek and pushed himself to his feet. "No, two in the morning bathroom calls are not my first choice," he said.

"Mom, is it okay if I sleep down here with Dean again? I'm just worried he'll have one of his nightmares again."

Keiko hesitated a moment then nodded. "Okay, but tomorrow night, you're back in your own bed."

Sam didn't like the hesitation and concern he had seen in his mother's eyes. Did she know there was something going on between him and Dean? That hesitation also meant she didn't approve of it. He wondered how much the age difference played into it--assuming that she suspected something in the first place. Dean and he would have to be careful it looked like. More careful, at least.

"Sam!" his father yelled at him.

"Coming!" Sam said and hurried down the hall and helped his dad get Dean up and into the bathroom. Sam had already made sure anything Dean needed was at hand for him.

* * *

Dean rolled his eyes a little at the younger boy when Sam told him to stop pouting. Sam was talking like 10 o’clock was actually _late_. Yeah, maybe it was, if he was five years old. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gone to bed at ten, willingly, and not because he’d been knocked out by some monster or another. Bobby was lucky if he could get him in bed before midnight on a school night, and it definitely wasn’t a school night.

The young man glared at nothing in particular as his body betrayed him by yawning again. Damn it.

Rather than waiting for Sam and his father to return, however, Dean pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the couch bed. He could at least handle that much on his own. The memory of how unpleasant it had been walking to the bathroom on his own this afternoon was enough to make him wait for help whether he wanted it or not.

He’d take it easy, and hopefully Sam was right and he wouldn’t be such an invalid tomorrow.

Though Dean was a little surprised when Sam’s father returned without the younger boy in tow, at first. But soon after the older man called for his son, Sam rushed in, hovering like the mother hen he’d been playing most of the night as the two helped him to his feet and to the bathroom to do his business.

"Thanks. I’ve got it." He told the two when they finally reached the bathroom, managing inside himself fairly well and shutting the door for some much needed privacy. He liked Sam a lot, but there were still some things he’d rather not share with the other boy any time soon. He could wipe his own ass, damn it.

Dean took care of business and brushed his teeth. He ran his hand over his cheek when he was done and frowned a little. He was going to have to shave tomorrow, but he didn’t really feel like doing it now. Dean briefly wondered if Sam even needed to shave yet... the thought kind of made him feel like a pervert, but he pushed it away.

Lastly Dean took the time to check his bandages while he was up. They looked fine, seemed to be healing well despite the way the previous stitches had torn the skin, and there didn’t seem to be much seepage from the stitches. That was good.

Yawning and feeling like he could fall asleep standing on his feet, damn Sam for being right, Dean finished up quickly and opened the bathroom door so he could be tucked back into bed.

* * *

The two Colts helped Dean back to bed. Once his father left, Sam settled down by Dean again and after making sure Dean had taken his pills, entwined his fingers with Dean. The movie was still playing so he put his focus on that, discreetly watching Dean. Dean probably wasn't back in bed fifteen minutes when his eyes closed and his hand became limp in Sam's. Slowly Sam crawled out of bed and turned off the TV, watching Dean to make sure he hadn't woken him. Dean shifted in his sleep, but didn't seem to actually wake up. He shut off the light and again paused to listen to see if Dean's breathing changed. When it hadn't, Sam hurried to his room. Dean should be fine for a good hour by himself. Although people could start dreaming right away, REM sleep tended to be the worst for nightmares and that was usually about ninety minutes in. So he figured he could safely spend an hour on the scrapbook, then get ready for bed and join Dean.

Keeping a close eye on the time, Sam finished up the last bit he wanted to do on that page, then brushed his teeth and returned to Dean's room. Dean's room. He liked that thought. That Dean might have a room in their house. He slid under the covers, took Dean's hand in his, and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Dean didn’t remember falling asleep, though of course he must have because a slight jostling beside him had him waking up, blinking a little groggy at first a little confused as to where he was. Then he noticed the warm hand holding his own, and equally warm body close by and he smiled sleepily.

Sam…

The younger boy wasn’t close enough for Dean’s liking, however, so Dean scooted a little closer. Spooning up behind Sam, Dean wrapped his arms around the younger boy’s waist and pressed his nose into the other boy’s soft hair. He sighed softly, his breath ghosting over the younger boy’s ear as he enjoyed the heat of his lover’s warmth soaking into him. This was much better.

Comfortable and content, Dean let his eyes slide back closed and within minutes he was asleep again, still holding Sam’s hand.


	13. Chapter 13

  
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Brimstone Gold

Jul 30 2010, 12:22 AM

Sam snuggled back against the warm body behind him and felt the arm wrapped around his waist as he slowly began to wake up. He heard footsteps and came awake instantly. He tried to get out of Dean's hold but Dean didn't seem to want to let him go. The footsteps were his mother's and though soft, he still heard them. He grabbed Dean's wrist and tugged hard and managed to roll way from Dean's grip. Dean shifted unhappily and reached out for Sam, making a small sound of complaint. Sam smacked his hand. Dean was now in the middle of the bed, so Sam couldn't very well slide back under the covers. Besides his mom had probably heard the bedsprings squeak. Sam made sure his sweats were on properly, and was stretching and yawning when the curtain was pulled aside.

"Morning," he said sleepily to her. He walked past her and straight into the bathroom and took care of business. He didn't have to go that badly, but he would prefer for his mom to think that's what woke him up. By the time he came back out, his mother was in the kitchen.

"Did you sleep okay?" Keiko asked him.

Sam wrinkled his nose. "Dean's a bed hog. I practically fell out of bed this morning when I woke up I was so close to the edge."

"I think Dean's been here long enough that you can sleep in your own bed tonight."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so too. He hasn't had any more nightmares. I'm going to go shower. What's for breakfast?"

"Waffles."

Sam smacked his lips. "Yum. I'll be back down to help in a few."

Relieved his mother hadn't caught them, with Dean's arm around his waist, he breathed a sigh of relief as he got fresh clothes from his room and showered. Least his heart wasn't pounding like an out of control freight train anymore. He returned to the kitchen as soon as he was done and began setting the table.

Ithiel Dragon

Aug 7 2010, 10:11 PM

Dean was having a really good dream, as was evidenced by his half hard cock pressing against a warm thigh that was connected to the equally warm body in his arms. He sighed contentedly, inhaling the scent of Sam’s soap and a bit of sweat that lingered in the younger boy’s hair. He didn’t think he’d ever woken up with someone in his bed, in his arms, before. At least not intentionally, and Dean liked it. He liked it a lot. When he felt Sam press back against him, closing the space between them even further, Dean instinctively held the younger boy a little tighter.

Yeah, a very good dream…

But of course it didn’t last. Sam was pulling away from him… or was he being taken away? That thought caused a spike of panic to be driven into his heart and he held onto the other boy even tighter, but his efforts were proven futile. Someone grabbed him, or maybe it was more than one person, or maybe it was nothing at all, but something held him as Sam was wrenched away from his arms. Sam was calling out his name, his face and voice terrified and pleading with him as he was dragged away. He managed to finally free an arm at least to reach out for Sam but the thing holding him or maybe it was the pain, stopped him from following, from going to Sam’s aid, to stop him from being taken away.

No, no not again. No…

He struggled, he thrashed, but the invisible force wouldn’t let him go. Dean called out for Sam over and over as he fought but there was no answer. At least… no answer from Sam. Suddenly Dean was released and as he fell he swore he saw the flash of yellow eyes in the darkness and heard a cold cruel laugh. In all his previous dreams of the yellow eyed man, he’d never heard him speak, now the voice made every hair on his body stand on end.

_He was never yours to begin with._

Dean woke up with a small cry of pain when he hit the floor, still fighting the sheets that had become tangled around him from his thrashing. His heart hammering so loud in his chest it was all he could hear, and panic still pumping hard through his veins when he cried out the younger boy’s name aloud this time.

“Sam!”

Brimstone Gold

Aug 7 2010, 11:25 PM

The waffles were beginning to smell really good, and so was the bacon. He heard his father getting his shower and figured by the time his dad was in the kitchen, the first of the waffles would be done cooking. His mom was really good like that, always had a knack for having the food ready at just the perfect time.

Sam had just gotten the silverware out of the kitchen drawer when he heard the thump and the cry of his name. Dropping the pile of silverware on the table he was down the hall in a flash, his mother hot on his heels. Sam saw Dean lying on the floor, fighting with the tan sheets that were tangled all about his body.

"Dean, wake up!" Sam practically yelled at him as he rushed to Dean's side. Sam grabbed Dean's shoulders and got an elbow alongside his face as Dean continued to fight to get free of the sheets. Keiko moved up to Dean's head and held his shoulders. Sam managed to get some of the sheets pulled free, releasing Dean's arms but taking a kick to his side in the process.

His cheek already began to feel tight where Dean hit him, but he caught the senior's arms at that point, holding them firmly, wishing his mother wasn't here so he could kiss Dean awake, but also glad she was there to help.

"Dean! Dean, it's okay, you're safe. I'm right here. I'm safe too," Sam said firmly.

Ithiel Dragon

Aug 8 2010, 12:05 AM

It took longer than Dean would have wanted to admit to realize that he was awake, to realize that the nightmare was over. That it had only been another nightmare. That it was plain simple sheets trapping him in place and not the invisible bonds of a demon. That the hands he was fighting against weren’t trying to hurt him, to hold him while Sam was being taken away by the demon, taken away like his mother, like his father, had been taken from him. That Sam wasn’t calling to him for help… but to wake up…

Dean stilled suddenly, breathing heavily, his face and body drenched in sweat. He stared up at Sam, almost like he’d never seen him before, blinking a few times. Then he began to shake. Trembling so hard his teeth practically rattled inside of his head.

He didn’t think about what he was doing when he suddenly sat up, the hold on his shoulders having relaxed when he’d stilled, and wrapped his arms around the younger boy. Dean was still shaking even as he held Sam tight.

“Not going to let him take you… not again…” Dean barely realized he was speaking over and over. 

Brimstone Gold

Aug 8 2010, 01:38 AM

Sam hugged Dean back after a moment and gave his mom a helpless if confused look. "Nobody's taking me anywhere. I'm right here."

He couldn't believe how soaked with sweat Dean was or the way he was trembling in Sam's arms. And the way Dean was holding on to him, like someone was going to just rip him away from Dean. It was actually tight enough Sam couldn't really take a deep breath. He ran his hand through Dean's hair. "It's okay Dean," he soothed.

Giving his mother a nod, he indicated that he had this and she could leave. There was food cooking after all. And he really wanted to be alone with Dean. His mother nodded back and rose to her feet. "You let me know if you need anything," she told him softly.

Holding Dean nearly as tightly as Dean was holding him, he tried to reassure him. "Eric's not here and I know you won't let him get his hands on me. I have faith you'll protect me. It was just a really bad dream. That's all. You're awake and I'm here and it's all going to be fine. Mom's even making us waffles."

Ithiel Dragon

Aug 8 2010, 02:46 AM

It seemed to take forever for the panic to fade. Even though it really could only have been a few minutes. But thanks to Sam’s soft words and soothing touches Dean’s heart finally began to slow, he gradually stopped shaking like a leaf in the storm, and he could breathe without feeling like he was being choked by an invisible hand. Slowly, Dean lessened his grip around the younger boy, knowing his hold must be painful, but he didn’t let go of Sam completely. The fear was still there, sharp and tasting like death.

Those eyes… that voice… So real, it had all felt so real. The terror he had felt was certainly real. But it was just a dream… right? It had to be just another fucking nightmare… but Sam dreamed about yellow eyes too. There was no reason for Sam to dream about yellow eyes. The same yellow eyes that haunted his nightmares, belonging to a demon that had killed his family… What if the yellow eyed demon was really after Sam?

Eric… Sam thought Dean had been dreaming about Eric. Fuck… Dean didn’t know if he should be grateful or not that Sam only thought this was about that bastard. Should he tell Sam? But what if it was just another stupid nightmare, Dean didn’t want to scare Sam needlessly. Especially when Sam had his own nightmares to deal with.

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally releasing Sam enough so that he could pull back and look at the younger boy, Dean gave him a sheepish look.

“Sorry… didn’t mean to freak you out. Guess this is really ruining my bad ass image, huh?” Dean tried to joke, even managing to give the younger boy a shaky smile.

Brimstone Gold

Aug 12 2010, 12:04 AM

It seemed to take forever for Dean to calm down, for the trembling of his muscles to ease and finally disappear. Sam took a discretely deeper breath when Dean finally relaxed his hold on him. He didn't understand how a nightmare about Eric could have shaken Dean so completely. Even if Eric had put Dean on the ground with that targeted punch, it just didn't seem to fit Dean's psychological make-up to be that freaked out over it. Maybe it was just because Dean was laid up and had to trust his cousin to look out for Sam. If Dean had been that worried, he knew, just knew, that Dean would have insisted Sam stay home.

"You pretty much ruined your bad-ass image with me a long time ago," Sam teased Dean gently. "I know you're a sucker for a pretty face and hot ass."

Sam carefully extracted himself from Dean's arms. "C'mon, let's get you untangled," he said and began to pull at the sheets. "I want to check your side too and make sure you didn't rip any of your stitches again."

With Dean's help, they disentangled his body and then Sam peeled back the bandage carefully. "Some fresh blood seeping, but no ripped stitches," he said with relief. "Still, let me clean it and put on a fresh bandage. You know, I'm beginning to think you like it here so much you don't want to leave, the way you keep hurting yourself. Either that or you like Mom's cooking and us catering to your every whim. Just stay put while I get the antibacterial rinse."

Sam hurried to the bathroom and returned almost as fast with a handful of supplies. After wetting down a four by four with the antibacterial wash, he gently patted at Dean's side, cleaning away the blood, smeared antibiotic cream over the wound, then replaced the bandage with a fresh one. "Okay, humpty-dumpty. You're in one piece again. You want me to get Dad to help you back into bed, or do you just want to have me help you up? How are you feeling?"

Ithiel Dragon

Aug 12 2010, 01:37 AM

Dean rolled his eyes a little when Sam informed him he’d already pretty much ruined his bad ass image already. The older boy couldn’t even really deny it either. He also couldn’t deny the younger boy’s comment about him being a sucker for a pretty face and hot ass, so Dean merely grinned at Sam. Letting his eyes travel down the length of Sam’s body and giving the boy a long lingering look for emphasis. Dean was definitely a sucker for Sam.

He nodded slightly when Sam offered to help him get untangled and by then Dean was feeling better enough to feel a little embarrassed about having rolled out of bed during a nightmare. Sam’s mom had come in with the younger boy too to help him calm down. Yeah, definitely ruining his image. Dean sighed softly.

Dean nodded again and let the younger boy check the bandage on his side, his relief mirroring Sam’s when he saw that he hadn’t done any new damage. Fuck, he did _not_ want to have to go back to the hospital to get re-stitched again. He definitely didn’t want to keep hurting himself, that was for damned sure. Despite his ‘bad-ass’ reputation, he didn’t enjoy pain. Dean rolled his eyes a little again at Sam’s comment about him wanting to stick around for his mother’s cooking. Though he couldn’t really deny he kind of liked having Sam around for his every whim.

“Not going anywhere.” He informed the younger boy when Sam told him to stay put. Even if the floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, Dean wasn’t ready to try to get up yet. He hurt like a bitch from the obvious pulling of his side when he’d been thrashing around in the nightmare. When Sam returned and started tending to the wound though, Dean did his best not to flinch, not wanting to worry the other boy even more.

Dean snorted a little at the humpty-dumpty remark. Sam better not start calling him that or he might have to seriously noogie the younger boy. He thought a moment about Sam’s offer to get his father to help him up, then shook his head.

“I think I can get up. It could be worse.” Dean replied as he started to push himself up a little. It was time he started doing things for himself again. 

Brimstone Gold

Aug 23 2010, 12:55 AM

Sam saw the determined set of Dean's jaw and the way Dean steeled himself as he started to move and knew Dean wouldn't stop until he had either hurt himself or made it onto the bed. Dean was so freaking stubborn.

"Don't push too hard, You side is bleeding," Sam cautioned as he gripped Dean's arm and, watching him closely, helped pull Dean up enough to be able to sit on the bed.

He could see in the senior's eyes that he was still badly shaken by his nightmare. Since Dean had another nightmare, Sam didn't figure his mother would complain about him sleeping with Dean again. If he could get Dean to wear the dream bag, he was certain it would help.

Once Dean was sitting on the bed, Sam helped Dean slowly scoot back so he was sitting up, leaning against the cushions. After pulling up a blanket to cover Dean, he quickly retrieved a damp cloth from the bathroom and began wiping Dean's sweat-coated face down. "And I thought I had impressive nightmares. I don't usually end up on the floor anymore, though I can remember hiding under the bed after a couple of mine when I was younger. Mom would have to coax me out." He leaned in and planted a light kiss on Dean's lips. "You want to talk about it?" Sam asked quietly. "The therapist always said it was helpful to talk about them, even if you only remembered a little bit. Took a long time but she finally got me over some of my worst fears in the real world and that's helped keep the nightmares away. Mostly."

Ithiel Dragon

Aug 24 2010, 02:57 AM

Dean rolled his eyes a little at Sam’s concerned words. Not that he didn’t appreciate the concern, it was just he was tired of being an invalid. He needed to start fending for himself again.

Still, he didn’t argue against Sam’s help getting him back into bed. Dean was actually glad that Sam was still here. He didn’t really want to admit just how much that dream had shaken him, but unfortunately it was pretty obvious. Considering he’d ended up on the floor… how fucking embarrassing. He was a hunter, god damn it, not some scared little kid in the dark.

When Sam mentioned it, Dean tried not to blush but he knew he wasn’t successful. Well, at least he _hadn’t_ ended up under the bed. Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at Sam in the face again if that had happened. It was hard enough now.

Though Dean certainly felt sympathy for the little boy Sam had been, hiding under his bed in fear until his mother coaxed him out. Dean wasn’t sure he could admit to Sam that he had done similar things as a child. How he had hid under beds, in corners, inside closets, shaking in fear through the night, and refusing to come out in the morning. Kicking, screaming, and biting when first doctors and then later various foster parents finally lost patience and tried to drag him out.

Those were the ‘good’ nights. The bad nights he’d wake them up screaming bloody murder all through the night until they finally got fed up. In the beginning they just sent him back to the orphanage or off to another foster home. As he grew up others tried drugging him, or even gagging him to keep him quiet. He’d been yelled at for his nightmares. He’d been beaten. His last foster home… well, the husband had his own methods.

Dean hadn’t even realized he’d become lost in memories until he felt the soft kiss Sam pressed to his lips. He offered Sam a thankful smile, but shook his head at the younger boy’s offer. The last thing Dean wanted to do right now was talk about it, even with someone who understood better than most, he still couldn’t tell Sam everything. He didn’t even want to.

“No, I’m ok. Don’t worry. Thanks though. What’s for breakfast?” Dean finally asked, changing the subject. 

Brimstone Gold

Aug 25 2010, 09:44 PM

Sam could still see the sheen of sweat on Dean and his pupils were the size of saucers from the adrenaline. Sam ran his fingers soothingly through Dean's sweat soaked hair, but was glad to see Dean had stopped trembling.

"Hah," Sam snorted softly. "You don't have to be all macho for me, you know, but whenever you're ready to talk about it…I'll listen. And I know you don't think so, but I think you're doing a great job of protecting me from Eric. He's not going to 'take me,' not with you watching my back. I know it's gotten off to a rocky start, but we're both learning what that sneaky bastard's capable of. It's just been a sharp learning curve. And I have to learn to watch your back too." He kissed Dean again, this time a bit more forcefully, letting his tongue dart into Dean's mouth, but not letting it last. He could see Dean's disappointment when he pulled back.

"Mom and Dad might come check on you anytime right now," Sam told him. "And that would just be awkward."

He really did want to spend more time kissing Dean, hoping it would soothe and reassure the teen he now thought of as his boyfriend. Dean was so damned handsome, he still couldn't get what Dean saw in him. He didn't think Dean would be as caring acting as he was if Dean was just hoping for some tail. Then again, Eric had been just as nice and friendly to him. But after the way Eric acted when Sam turned him down, and the things he had said to him, Eric was just a class A creep. Dean was anything but.

He finally remembered Dean's question. He had told him once, but Dean was still in the aftermath of his nightmare so he wasn't surprised Dean didn't remember. "We're having waffles for breakfast. We have some blueberries to put on them if you'd like. Are you ready to eat? I was going to see if you wanted to try to come out to the table, but I bet you're too sore now, huh?"

Ithiel Dragon

Aug 28 2010, 03:31 AM

Dean couldn’t deny he enjoyed the feeling of Sam’s fingers running through his hair, even though he knew it had to be pretty gross at this point. Being all sweaty and Dean hadn’t taken a shower for a couple of days at this point. Yup, pretty damn gross. The younger boy didn’t seem to mind so much at least, but Dean decided he really needed a shower at this point. Before he really started to reek.

He wanted to give Sam a smile when the younger boy went on to reassure _him_ that he thought Dean was doing a good job of protecting him from Eric. That he knew Dean wouldn’t let Eric take him… He wanted to, but he couldn’t even force one to his lips.

First of all, it was a lie. The only thing Dean had done was get himself put in the hospital twice. Dean could walk away from fight against a black dog with only a knife without a scratch but that fucking bastard had managed to put him in the hospital. He was stupid and he was sloppy and there was no fucking excuse for it. If he didn’t get his head out of his ass, then next it would be Sam in the hospital or worse…

Second… it wasn’t even the thought of Eric getting his hands on Sam that had caused his recent little panic attack. God… he hoped it was nothing. Just a combination of the nightmares he’d had all his life and worry over Sam’s well being. He hoped… Fuck, he wished Bobby was here. Then he could at least talk to someone about what he’d seen in his dream without being told he was fucking nuts. Well… Sam probably wouldn’t call him fucking nuts, but he didn’t want to scare the poor boy either. Especially if it was nothing…

Sam kissing him again took him a little bit off guard, but Dean quickly returned the kiss, a small sound of complaint escaping his lips when they parted. Over too damned quick in his opinion but he knew Sam was right. Definitely not a good idea.

“Yeah, awkward.” Dean agreed, even though he thought it was an understatement of the century. Waffles. Right, Sam had mentioned that before, hadn’t he? Waffles sounded pretty damned good right now.

“Yeah, I’m hungry.” The older boy replied with a nod. Though when Sam mentioned at the possibility of him eating at the table, he was torn. While he didn’t want to be treated like an invalid anymore, he also didn’t really want to do the whole breakfast with the family thing. He wasn’t sure he could deal with it on the heels of that nightmare.

“I’ll eat here.” Dean finally answered. Of course Sam could eat with his parents if he wanted to. “I think I’ll need a shower after breakfast.” 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 15 2010, 11:47 PM

Sam sighed to himself. He wished Dean would join them at the table. Still, Dean was pretty shaken and the last thing he really needed was sitting with a couple strangers talking about stuff he had no interest it or didn't know anything about, or having his parents focus their attention on him. He had the distinct feeling Dean didn't like to be the center of attention.

Maybe he could corner Dean later and try to get some of the nightmare out of him. He was certain Dean would do better if he talked about it…unless…what if it was about the yellow eyed demon, Azazel? That was what Dean's nightmare had been about at Bobby's. And what he thought the nightmare that Dean had earlier had been about. Was he dreaming the demon was trying to take Sam? He shuddered at the idea. He remembered the dream he had about Yellow Eyes just the other day, and cringed. No, he didn't like that idea at all.

He wanted to ask Dean if it was Yellow Eyes and not Eric, but really decided he didn't want to know. He would rather assume it was Eric, though he did find it kind of hard to believe Eric could shake Dean up like that. The way Dean was so upset it was like at Bobby's…

Nope, just not going there.

"Okay, I'll get breakfast and bring it in," Sam said, pushing the ugly possibilities out of his head. "Uhm, yeah, a shower would probably be good, but that means climbing stairs. Do you think you're up to that? You could always use the sink in the bathroom if you're not. It's not a great solution but if you can't do stairs it's better than nothing."

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 16 2010, 09:51 PM

Dean gave Sam a nod when the younger boy said he’d bring in his breakfast for him. Really, he could definitely get used to this whole breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed thing. At least, if it was Sam bringing him his meals and the reason he was in bed was for more recreational purposes instead of him being laid up.

When Sam mentioned the stairs though, Dean mentally winced. He hadn’t thought of that. Oh joy. That was going to be fun, considering he felt like an old man just walking from the den to the bathroom to piss. But he really did need a fucking shower by this point and he wasn’t going to get better if he didn’t start pushing himself.

“Stairs shouldn’t be a problem.” Dean answered, waving off the younger boy’s concern. Yeah, he might have already completely ruined his image with Sam, but he could at least pretend otherwise. And if push came to shove he could always have Sam help him up the stairs, though he’d like to avoid that option if he could. If Sam wanted to help him in the shower however… that was another story.

“You can help me in the shower, though.” The older boy offered, giving Sam a playful wink. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 16 2010, 11:10 PM

Sam was glad Dean was willing to try to climb the stairs, though that he was willing to take on the stairs but not join them at the dining room table sort of annoyed Sam.

"I think me helping you in the shower might be a little hard to explain," Sam said but then realized Dean might need help getting in and out of the bath tub, especially after climbing the stairs. "I'll help you get in and get out though." He gave Dean a playful glare, "And I don't mean that the way I know you're going to take it. So don't get any ideas."

Sam got up. "It's really great you're feeling good enough for the stairs. Guess that means you'll be up to sitting out at the table tonight. Mom's making stew. Dad's talking bar-b-que chicken tomorrow, corn on the cob, and homemade ice cream. Leftovers this next week are going to be awesome. Lasagna, Stew, bar-b-que." He smacked his lips at the thought. He grinned at Dean. "That's what we usually do. Cook big meals on the weekends then eat the leftovers during the week with a few cooked meals that I usually make. Since I've been at your place, Mom's been doing the crock pot route for her and Dad. Though she did mention making some meatloaf to send over to Bobby's for us to have a meal one night.

"So, you want blueberries on your waffles?"

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 18 2010, 01:33 AM

Of course it was too much to hope that Sam could come up with a convincing way to explain to his parents why they were in the shower together, but Dean could hope couldn’t he? Apparently not, Sam pretty much killed that idea and Dean put on an exaggerated pout that was only half faked.

Of course when Sam started giving him shit about eating dinner with his family, Dean’s expression changed to one of genuine annoyance. What the hell? He’d ‘made nice’ with his mother yesterday. He’d done his best not to annoy his parents or get in their way. Sam’s parents certainly didn’t seem all that disappointed with him not joining them for dinner, so what did Sam care?

What, were they going to feed him bread and water from now on unless he joined in ‘family time’? Dean highly doubted that, but that’s certainly the way Sam made it sound. Like he was trying to bribe him with the promise of food, or none unless he agreed. Even knowing that’s probably not what Sam meant at all, Dean still didn’t appreciate it too much.

“Sure, whatever.” Dean answered Sam’s question a little sullenly. Wondering how likely it would be after his shower he could convince one of Sam’s parents to take him home.

He wasn’t comfortable here. He seriously doubted that Sam’s parents actually wanted him here, despite the fact they’d offered to put him up while Bobby was away. Well, Sam’s mom had offered, Sam’s father hadn’t wanted him here that was for sure, but he’d gone along with it. Not to mention that since he’d been here he’d had two of the worst nightmares he’d had in a while about the Yellow Eyed demon. Sure, he’d had one a few days ago at home too, but Dean still thought it would probably be better for everyone if he left.

Especially if Sam was going to start pushing him… and he didn’t want to argue with the younger boy. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 18 2010, 02:06 AM

Sam furrowed his brow at Dean's tone. Why did Dean act like it would kill him to join his parents for dinner? He really figured Dean would be wiped after the stairs and shower anyhow and really was just giving him shit. But Dean got all pissy about it. Sam missed eating with his parents, talking and stuff. He enjoyed being with Dean a whole lot, but he really hadn't seen a whole lot of his parents since he started going to the stupid school, so the weekends was really the only time to catch up. Though he guessed it would be really boring for Dean, listening to his parents talk about work and whatever else happened to come up in conversation.

He'd stop pushing, but he was going to eat with his parents at least once this weekend, whether Dean joined them or not. He'd leave the decision up to Dean. He was tired of trying to pull teeth to get Dean to at least try to get to know his parents. He couldn't help but wonder why Dean was so resistant to the idea.

"Sorry," Sam said, though he couldn't quite keep the frustration out of his voice. "I won't ask again. I guess it would be boring for you anyhow. I'll go get breakfast."

Heading out to the kitchen, he filled them each a plate and carried them back in to the den, then got them both some juice to drink.

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 18 2010, 09:00 PM

“Way to go, Winchester.” Dean muttered to himself when Sam left the room, obviously upset, and he supposed he couldn’t even really blame the younger boy. Sam didn’t understand, and Dean really couldn’t really explain it to the other boy without revealing way more about his past than he ever told to anyone, even Bobby.

Sam couldn’t possibly understand the twisting knife of pain in his heart just being here caused him, the memories it stirred inside of him. Memories of soft blonde hair and the sweetest loving voice singing him to sleep. Memories of the strongest arms he’d ever known, wrapping around him gently holding him and Dean knew they would protect him from anything. A home. A family. A mother. A father. A brother… A life… all taken away from him in one night of fire, screams, smoke, and blood…

For many months afterwards there had been hospital halls, doctors, medication, and pitying looks, therapists that tried to ‘help’ him but only confused him because they would not believe him. After some time even the most patient seemed to become frustrated with him, telling him to stop lying if he ever wanted to see his brother again. It was only when he started telling them the lies they wanted to hear that he was finally put up for adoption.

But they had lied to him. He never saw his baby brother again. Sammy had been adopted and all records of his adoption lost in a terrible fire. Sammy was gone and he was alone. He went from foster home to foster home. Places just like this. People pretending to love him, pretending to care, but it was all lies. He was too difficult, too rebellious, always talking about crazy things like monsters with yellow eyes, always waking up screaming in the middle of the night. So they yelled, they hit, they put him on drugs and locked him away, until finally they gave him up. Over and over just one bit lie. No one loved him. No one cared about him. No one ever would…

It was a difficult lesson to learn, but it was a lesson he learned well right before he ran away from his last alcoholic pedophile foster father… Maybe the Colts weren’t like that, maybe they were, but Dean didn’t really care. He didn’t care about them and they didn’t care about him. It was a simple fact and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. He’d promised Bobby he’d be civil, and he had been. He’d promised Bobby he’d be ‘charming’ and he’d even kind of been that too. He’d never promised he’d be a part of ‘family time’ and he wasn’t about to. On top of everything else… he just couldn’t deal with that right now.

Well, he supposed it didn’t matter much now. It seemed he’d worn out his welcome and the last thing he wanted was for Sam to get tired of him. When Sam returned with his plate, Dean took it with a small nod of thanks and started silently picking at it more than actually eating any of it. When he figured he’d picked at it enough he set the plate aside and took a drink of the juice Sam had brought him.

“I’m gonna go take a shower. I remember where the bathroom is.” Dean told the younger boy before he pushed back the bed covers and push himself up. Once he finished his shower Dean decided he’d call a cab to take him home. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 18 2010, 10:35 PM

Sam felt awkward sitting in silence with Dean. He ate about half his breakfast but had sort of lost his appetite. He saw that Dean only took a bite or two of his own even though he made it look like he had eaten a lot more of it by pushing things around and cutting it up and squishing it.

He didn't understand it. Why was Dean so damned resistant to spending any time with his parents? They weren't ogres. They were the best, usually. There were times, sure that Sam and his parents got into it. Mostly him and his dad. His dad was really stubborn and his mom said he took after his dad. His mom always managed to get him to do stuff even if he didn't want to. His dad tended to just order him to do stuff and not give him any slack about when. If a show he was watching was ten minutes from being over, his dad didn't care. His mom would let him finish watching the show. It wasn't real often him and his dad fought, and really, mostly, he just got pissed and his dad got pissed and they didn't talk to each other for an hour or two. Then his mom would do something and make it better and they were all a family again…even if he and his dad were still a little pissed at each other. The biggest issue was that his dad didn't listen to him if his dad was set on something. Like the school. At least his dad got it now and they were finally on the same page.

He was surprised when Dean pushed himself up and announced he was going to get his shower. He implied he didn't want or need Sam's help. Dean wanted to be a tough guy about the whole thing. Dean was an idiot at times.

Even though he was tempted to let Dean go ahead and climb the stairs by himself, he knew Dean would do it, no matter how much it hurt him.

"Okay," Sam said. "I'll go get Dad to help you up the stairs and I'll take your duffel up."  


Ithiel Dragon

Sep 19 2010, 12:31 AM

Dean was proud that he’d only winced a little bit when he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch bed. It was probably a good thing he was facing away from Sam when the younger boy made his announcement that he’d get his father to help him up the stairs. So Sam couldn’t see the scowl on his face.

The younger boy might be naïve, but he certainly wasn’t obtuse. He’d basically told Sam that he didn’t need any help, and the other boy simply ignored it. He could take care of himself, god damn it. He didn’t need their help.

Instead of answering the other boy, Dean pushed himself up from the edge of the bed. One hand pressed to his wounded side and the other using the edge of the table for support. This time he managed to completely suppress the urge to wince in pain.

So far so good.

He might not be able to carry his whole bag up the stairs but he should be able to manage a few things he’d need. Easier said than done. Bending down to unzip his duffel bag was a lot harder than he thought it would be. First he had to let go of the table, then he had to bend over without simply falling over and landing on his head.

The wave of dizziness that accompanied the pain when he did so certainly didn’t help matters. But at least he managed to grab a shirt, jeans, and underwear and other things he’d need for his shower out of his bag without falling over or puking. He was really glad he’d only had a few bites of breakfast by the time he was done. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 19 2010, 12:49 AM

Sam watched Dean being a stubborn ass and shook his head as he folded his arms across his chest. Dean was anything but steady on his feet and when Dean bent over and nearly toppled over in an effort to get the things he wanted for his shower, Sam took a step toward him. Dean was being all pissy about it and Sam didn't get it. Why did Dean find it so hard to accept help? He was afraid to insist on helping Dean with the way Dean was acting though and so was torn. If he called his dad in and Dean exploded, that wouldn't be good. But he was afraid the same thing would happen if he moved forward to help. If Dean fell and hurt himself more, Sam was going to feel like shit, but he really didn't know what to do. Maybe Dean just needed to try this for himself, proved that he could do it. The senior certainly wasn't the type to accept anything but self-sufficiency, but didn't he realize he was just hurting himself needlessly?

Sam chewed on his upper lip, indecisive. Dean could probably make it to the door unaided.

"Okay. I'll take the dishes out to the kitchen," Sam said. That would give Dean a chance to maybe gather himself and realize he did need help. He gathered their plates and glasses and stacked the trays on top of each other.

"I'll be right back. If you…decide you want some help, tell me. Please," Sam said softly, and left with the trays. He just didn't know what else to do.

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 19 2010, 01:15 AM

Dean didn’t say anything as Sam left. Mostly because he was afraid his voice would sound too strained and Sam would insist on giving him the help he didn’t need. He had done a hell of a lot more on a hunt a hell of a lot more injured than this, he could handle a set of stairs and a shower, god damn it. At least the younger boy had finally gotten the hint and left him to do this for himself.

The older boy took a few moments to steady himself. Breathing deeply through his nose and out his mouth. Pushing down the pain. Forcing himself to concentrate. He rolled up his shampoo, razor, and other items in his shirt and jeans to make it easier to carry under one arm, leaving the other free to catch himself if he needed to.

Determined to be well on his way upstairs before Sam returned from taking care of their dishes, Dean started to make his way out of the den and down the hall towards the stairs as quickly as he could. He refused to let himself limp too badly, acknowledging the pain only made it worse after all. He only had to reach out and steady himself against the wall two or three times. Really, bending over had not been a good idea. But he made it to the stairs.

So far so good.

Holding onto the banister with a white knuckled grip, Dean started up the stairs.

Brimstone Gold

Sep 19 2010, 01:41 AM

Sam took the trays out to the kitchen, emptying the glasses into the sink and putting them in the dishwasher, then scraping the remains of the mostly untouched breakfast into the trash. After rinsing the dishes off he put them into the dishwasher too.

"Dean's going upstairs to take a shower. Just so you know," he said, turning to face his parents.

Jim pushed himself to his feet. "Okay, let's get him upstairs then."

Sam shook his head but looked miserable. "He doesn't want any help. I can't get him to join us at the table to eat. Whenever I bring it up he gets upset. And now he won't let me or you help him upstairs. I…don't understand."

"I don't think he's ever had a family," Keiko said, getting up and going to Sam. "Not really. Or if he did, I don't think it was a good experience. He isn't used to being taken care of. This is hard for him. He doesn't trust us. He doesn't trust anyone. That's not going to suddenly change, honey. Just go make sure he doesn't fall down the stairs, but let him make his own way up."

"What if he falls and hurts himself?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Then we'll be there to help him back up. Go on."

"Keiko--" Jim began.

She shook her head. "He needs this. Sam can catch him, then you can go help if that happens." She turned to her son. "Once he's done with his shower, offer him your bed to rest in for a bit. He's going to be pretty worn out. When he falls asleep, come back down and get started on your chores. When he's up to it, bring him back down to the den and you two can get your homework done so you don't have to do that tomorrow."

Sam gave a nod and hugged his mom. "Thanks." He glanced over at his father and gave a smile and a nod.

"Anyone ever tell you you're amazing," Jim said as he watched Sam head back to the stairs.

"Not often enough," she said, laughter in her eyes.

 

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 20 2010, 10:51 PM

Dean was almost proud of himself. Ok that was a lie. He was actually pretty damned pissed off at himself. He couldn’t even make it up one fucking flight of stairs by himself. He only made it half way up the stairs before he broke out in a cold sweat and his muscles started trembling from the exertion. His ankle, that had been fairly well behaved the past couple of days, had begun to protest almost right away sending pain up his whole leg. It was like he could suddenly feel every fucking bruise he’d gotten when the car had hit him all over again, and of course every step seemed to pull at his side a little more painfully.

That was when Dean stopped. Breathing heavily as he stood on the fifth or sixth step, he’d lost count, to rest a moment. Holding on to the railing even tighter and willing his legs not to simply give out underneath him.

He could do this, god damn it. It was just a twisted ankle and a stupid cut. Not even life threatening. Dean knew the fact that the stitches had been torn out once made it worse, but that only pissed him off more rather than comforted him. Considering that wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let his guard down with Eric.

Stupid fucking move on his part. One of many he’d made. This never would have happened if he’d just been paying attention in the first place.

In the middle of berating himself Dean heard a sound down the hallway and turned to see Sam standing there. He’d half expected to see the younger boy’s father with him, but Sam was alone. Dean didn’t say anything, instead turning his attention back to the stairs and forcing himself to move again. It was only a few more stairs. He didn’t need help. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 21 2010, 10:17 PM

Sam leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, ready to dash up them if Dean started to sway. He could see the exertion Dean was under, see his white knuckles, see the sweat, see how he trembled.

"Just so you know, it pisses me off you won't let us help. Mom said you don't trust us. That you need to do this for yourself. Obviously you can, so what are you trying to prove?" Sam huffed, not expecting an answer. It was purely rhetorical anyhow. He bounded up the stairs when Dean was near the top and slipped by him and into the bathroom across from his bedroom. He turned on the water to get it warming up, and pulled a fresh towel and washcloth out of the linen closet. He put the toilet lid down so Dean had a place to sit if he needed it.

He had told Dean he would help him in and out of the shower, or else he would just let the stubborn teen do that on his own, too. He reached in and felt the water, adjusting the temperature a bit. He simply waited patiently for Dean. If Dean wanted help he could fucking ask for it, even though Sam knew Dean wouldn't even if it killed him. 

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 21 2010, 10:44 PM

Dean didn’t respond to Sam’s angry words, and apparently the younger boy didn’t expect an answer which was just as well since he didn’t have one. What was he trying to prove? That he didn’t want or need their help. That he could take care of himself. That he could go home. Take your pick.

The older Dean didn’t say any of that, however, merely clenched his jaw letting his own anger flare at Sam’s words and help fuel his determination. When he heard Sam start up the stairs he tensed, but the younger boy didn’t touch him, he simply pushed past him. For a moment Dean had to tighten his grip on the banister when it nearly slipped and his knees almost gave out. He knew Sam wasn’t trying to send him tumbling back down the stairs, even though that had nearly been the result. Dean certainly wasn’t going to tell the other boy that either, instead glaring daggers at Sam’s retreating back.

Once Dean reached the top of the stairs he had to lean against the wall for a moment, breathing heavily while he caught his breath. Even though he’d done it he certainly didn’t feel like celebrating. He didn’t really feel much like having a shower anymore either, even though now he really did need one considering how he was sweating.

Dean heard the water running in the bathroom and muttered a few choice curses about meddling boyfriends under his breath before he forced himself to move again. Even though it was less work walking a straight path rather than up, he was exhausted and it took him longer than he would have liked to make it to the bathroom.

Sam didn’t look any more pleased, and Dean met the younger boy’s glare evenly.

“I’ve got it.” He told Sam as he tossed his things down on the edge of the sink. Dean wondered briefly how Sam would take the news that he was going home after this… probably not well.

Brimstone Gold

Sep 21 2010, 11:10 PM

Dean looked like hell by the time he finally practically staggered into the bathroom. He looked pissed too. Sam wanted to hug him, to yell at him, to slap him upside the head, all at the same time.

With Dean's words, Sam merely nodded, not sure what would come out of his mouth if he opened it to say anything. He left the teen alone, closing the bathroom door behind him and went to his bedroom. He quickly picked up his room then went to the computer and printed out the couple pictures he hadn't yet and put them in the scrapbook. He listened for Dean the whole time, horribly afraid the teen was going to fall and crack his skull open or something. Dean would be injured yet again because of Sam.

This just fucking sucked.

He picked up the scraps of paper he had trimmed from the photos and such and pitched them in the trashcan, closed down the photo program he was using, and then his the scrap book in the bottom drawer of his dresser. It wasn't done yet, but with a couple more pictures and some write ups, it wasn't far off. At least maybe the scrapbook would cheer the senior up, when Sam finally finished it.

Pulling back the covers on the bed, he fluffed the pillow and got it set up for Dean. For the way he had looked, his mom had been right. There was no way Dean was going to be able to make it back downstairs without getting some rest.

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 21 2010, 11:30 PM

The fact that Sam left the bathroom without any comment whatsoever made Dean raise an eyebrow in surprise. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for it or worried. Was it because the younger boy didn’t want to argue, or was it because Sam didn’t care enough to argue? Well, it was too late to worry about that now, wasn’t it?

Dean sighed under his breath and started the slow painful task of stripping off his clothes. In the end he had to sit down on the toilet seat or risk losing his balance as he struggled out of his shirt and pants. Taking off the bandages covering his wounded side was ‘easier’ but no more pleasant. The worst part came when he had to take off the ankle brace, he’d already been wearing it for a while now and it was starting to smell, getting it wet would only make it worse. Bending still wasn’t a good idea though and by the time Dean straightened he was more than a little light headed.

He had to remain sitting on the toilet seat for a few more minutes before he trusted himself to stand again. No longer able to put any weight on his twisted ankle, he wasn’t sure how the hell he was going to get into the shower after all. Maybe he shouldn’t have sent Sam away…

After a few aborted attempts and almost slipping once, he finally had to admit defeat. Sitting down heavily on the toilet seat once more with a string of growled curses. He had a feeling Sam was just going to love rubbing this in.

“Sam?” He called the younger boy’s name, having a feeling Sam hadn’t gone very far. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 22 2010, 12:25 AM

He heard Dean's voice and immediately went to the bathroom. The tone of Dean's voice was question and maybe one of need. He opened the door and saw Dean sitting on the toilet seat looking more than a little frustrated and pretty exhausted. And naked. Very very naked.

Focus, Sam scolded himself.

He immediately went over to the shower and closed the stopper on the drain. "I think a bath would be better. It'll help keep your stitches dry and keep you off that ankle, and let you soak that ankle." He was surprised at how swollen it was. The ankle itself was a rainbow of colors around the ankle bone. "We should have been having you soak that ankle a couple times a day already. I didn't know it was that bad."

After adjusting the temperature to get the bathwater right, he went over to Dean and pulled his arm over his shoulder. "Ready? One, two, three," Sam said and helped the older youth to his feet. Or foot, rather.

Supporting as much of Dean's weight at he could, he got Dean over to the bathtub and helped him sit down on the edge, then held him steady as Dean twisted to get his legs into the tub. At that point Sam couldn't do a lot and Dean lowered himself into the tub pretty much on his own.

"Maybe I should have gotten you some bubble bath," Sam teased him as he brought the washcloth over and got the soap off of the shower shelf along with the shampoo. He turned off the water, leaving just a trickle of hot water continue to fall into the tub to help keep the water warm.

"So you want help, or are you good for now? We can turn the shower back on when you're ready to wash your hair and rinse off."

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 22 2010, 12:51 AM

Dean looked up when he heard the bathroom door open and braced himself for the expected “I told you so” from the younger boy, but none came. Sam merely entered the room, closing the door behind him, and suggested a bath instead of a shower. At this point, Dean had to agree.

When Sam mentioned how bad the ankle looked, Dean merely shrugged. Well, it had been in a brace and wrapped up, no real way for Sam to know.

He watched as Sam adjusted the water and got the bath ready for him, and when the younger boy finally asked him if he was ready, Dean nodded. He wasn’t looking forward to standing up again, but it would only be for a short while and hopefully the bath would help.

Dean clenched his jaw, determined not to make a sound of discomfort as Sam helped him up and into the bath tub. He had to admit, after everything, this felt like heaven and a sigh of relief escaped his lips before Dean could stop it when he finally settled into the warm water. He only threw Sam a mild glare when the younger boy mentioned bubbles.

When Sam asked him if he wanted help with his bath, Dean raised an eyebrow. Well, he couldn’t really think of a reason to refuse Sam’s offer, especially since he really didn’t feel like moving at all right now.

“If you want to.” Dean finally answered, deciding to leave it up to Sam.

Brimstone Gold

Sep 24 2010, 12:10 AM

Dean looked decidedly content once he settled into the water and even seemed to relax some. The frustration that had made his brow crease seemed to slowly fade away. A small part of Sam was glad Dean still needed his hope, even though he knew he shouldn't be glad. That meant Dean still wasn't up to taking care of himself, as much as Dean would vehemently deny that fact. It probably just about killed him to ask Sam for help. He knew Dean had really wanted to prove he could manage all by himself.

"You should soak that ankle for a bit," Sam suggested. "I'll help you with your bath after your ankle has soaked, after you've soaked and gotten some of the tension out of you. It'll probably really be good for you. Mom suggested I put you in my bed after your shower. She didn't figure you'd feel like coming right back downstairs. I've got it set up for you, just in case you do want to sleep for a few hours. I have to do my chores after you're done with your bath. Then we can get our homework out of the way so we don't have to worry about it tomorrow."

Sam sat down on the floor next to the tub. He was trying hard to focus on Dean's face and not on other parts of his body. "I thought maybe I'd ask Dad to rent us a couple movies to watch tonight. Then tomorrow…well, we'll see what you're up to doing. I know Dad was really hoping you'd be willing to talk cars with him. Maybe go out to the garage and sit and he could pick your brain about suggestions for his car. And you can help me shuck the corn for lunch tomorrow." Sam grinned.

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 24 2010, 12:33 AM

Dean grunted a soft acknowledgement when Sam pointed out he should soak his ankle. He couldn’t really argue, since it was starting to feel better already now that he was stretched out in the tub. He couldn’t stretch out like this in the bath at home, it was too damned small. This was nice though. The warm water helping to relax his sore and tired muscles pretty damned well, and Dean sighed again as he let his head drop back to rest against the side of the tub, staring up at the ceiling.

Sam’s bed? Dean turned his head to look at Sam and arched an eyebrow at that, giving the younger boy a grin that would have been very naughty if he wasn’t so damned tire. Too bad he would probably be too damned exhausted after this to make use of the bed any other way than napping. Not that Sam would do anything with his parents in the house… then again, he never would have thought Sam would wake him up with a hand job while his mom was in the kitchen?

Dean snorted softly when Sam mentioned homework of all things.

“Fuck homework.” Dean muttered under his breath. Then Sam started talking about what they might do tomorrow and Dean couldn’t stop himself from frowning in spite of himself. He’d fully intended to leave this afternoon at the latest, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t even take a damned shower by himself, as he was sure Sam would point out if he did try to leave. Not to mention Bobby would kill him when the older hunter got back…

He knew Sam was mad at him about not eating with his parents. Maybe if he helped his father with his car that would make the younger boy happy.

“Car, maybe. Corn, forget it.” 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 24 2010, 11:31 PM

Sam gave a small huff of laughter. "You're going to be too tired for anything to happen in that bed but sleep. I'll try to get my chores done fast and then I'll come back up and work on the computer while you're out." Sam was going to make a crack about Bobby expecting Dean to have his homework done too, but it was pretty unlikely Dean would be going back to school for maybe a week so it didn't really matter. He didn't have a whole lot of homework. Maybe he could do that while Dean slept. Really he was reluctant to leave Dean alone long what with his nightmares. Maybe he could beg off on his chores, at least until Dean woke up and was back downstairs. His mom would probably go for that. Especially if he worked on his homework instead.

Sam beamed, his face lighting up when Dean said he might be willing to talk with his dad about the Mustang. He knew his father would be excited to get some 'professional' advice and opinions. Maybe that would cheer Dean up too, talking about cars.

"Corn shucking is fun," Sam protested. "Cornsilk everywhere, seeing that delicious corn underneath the leaves, know how good it's going to taste. And the mandatory cornsilk fights, too, of course. You gotta have those. And if there are any caterpillars, grossing out the other person. Have you ever even shucked corn?" he asked.

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 25 2010, 12:05 AM

“Party pooper.” Dean complained. Making a face when Sam pointed out that he’d be too damned tired to make use of Sam’s bed in more enjoyable ways than sleeping. Too bad Sam was probably right, still, Dean could have his fantasies.

He was pleased though that Sam still wanted to stay with him even if Dean was going to be asleep. Maybe it meant the younger boy wasn’t too pissed off with him about not wanting help up the stairs then. Well, Sam certainly wasn’t acting pissed off now. In fact, the younger boy seemed to be in a pretty good mood now.

The smile that lit up Sam’s face when Dean agreed to talk cars with his father kind of made it all worth it, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. When customers came by the scrap yard looking to have him do some work for them, Dean certainly didn’t have any problems talking cars and occasionally shooting the breeze.

Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little however as Sam went on about just how ‘exciting’ corn shucking could be. Seriously… was he kidding?

“I’ve never tried square dancing either, doesn’t mean I want to.” Dean replied with a snort. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 25 2010, 12:30 AM

Sam returned his eyeroll. "Yeah, you and square dancing. So not seeing that. Maybe dancing for Chippendales," he said, then felt the blush as he imagined Dean in tight leather pants and no shirt. He didn't have any idea how an exotic dancer danced, but he would be willing to watch if it was Dean doing the dancing.

"Uhm, yeah, and with that thought, I'm going to take your clothes downstairs to be washed. I'll get a wrap for your ankle since that brace looks kind of…gross. Just soak. I'll be back in just a minute."

Sam pushed himself to his feet and grabbed Dean's clothes and hurried down to the washing machine. Jesus that brace stunk. It looked like it could be washed though so he put it in a pillowcase, just in case it decided to disintegrate, and started the washer. He went in to the kitchen where his parents were.

"Can I put off my chores until later? As soon as Dean is done, it's a good bet he's going to fall asleep. With his nightmares, I don't want to leave him alone. I'll do my homework instead?" Sam asked hopefully.

Keiko and Jim exchanged glances. "So long as the lawn is mowed today, yes," Jim said.

"Thanks! And Dean thinks he'll be up to talking cars with you tomorrow and give you advice about the Mustang."

Jim sat up a little straighter. "Maybe I better go get things organized a little," he said, excitement dancing in his eyes.

Keiko laughed softly. "Well I can see I've lost him for the day. Why don't you clean the garage up while you're out there," she suggested. "It is on your honey-do list."

"And why is it you don't have a honey-do list, hmmm?" Jim asked.

"Because I'm smart enough not to let you give me one," Keiko answered sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him.

"I'm going to go get my homework," Sam said before his parents got any mushier. After retrieving his homework he put it in his bedroom then went in to check on Dean.

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 25 2010, 08:52 PM

Dean couldn’t help but grin at Sam’s ‘Chippendales’ comment, especially since the younger boy blushed afterwards. Sam blushing over his own perverted comments never failed to amuse Dean. He could practically see the naughty thoughts flickering through the boy’s brain and just imagining how Sam might react to a lap dance from him made Dean really want to try it. Not now of course, but later, definitely later. Damn it, there were so many things he wanted to try with Sam. He needed to get better soon.

When Sam suddenly announced that he was going to wash his clothes, and the ankle brace, Dean couldn’t think of a reason to complain. The brace was pretty gross he couldn’t deny it, and it would save him from having to do it himself when he got home. After all, and laundry definitely wasn’t on his top ten fun list.

So he merely nodded, his eyes tiredly following Sam out the door. When it closed behind the younger boy Dean did exactly what Sam suggested. He soaked. What else was he going to do? He supposed he could start washing, but he still didn’t really feel like moving right now. So instead Dean just relaxed in the warm water and he didn’t even realize his eyes were starting to droop closed until they were already shut. At that point, Dean didn't really care. 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 26 2010, 02:55 AM

Sam entered the bathroom and saw Dean was relaxing, his eyes shut. Then he heard the soft snores and laughed softly to himself. He sat back down on the floor and took Dean's hand, softly humming the song his mom always did to keep away the bad dreams. If his parents investigated, he didn't really know what he was going to say, so he just hoped they didn't. That would be massively awkward. But he was afraid to leave Dean alone in the bathtub asleep.

He watched Dean sleep, studying his features. Dean seemed so peaceful and so handsome. He admired the strong lines of his chest, watching it rise and fall with the long slow breaths Dean took as he slept. He picked up the soap and rolled it in his hands, creating a lather. He slowly began caressing Dean's chest with the soap, washing away the sweat and anything else that clung to that muscular chest. His hands ran along Dean's shoulders, smiling as he felt the strong muscles there. He massaged Dean's arms as he washed each one, trying to be gentle so as not to disturb his boyfriend's sleep. He finally took the rag and got it thoroughly soapy and began to wash Dean's thighs. He didn't want to move Dean, so he wash what he could, and he avoided Dean's groin, knowing that would probably wake the older youth up if anything would. He rinsed the suds off Dean's chest, watching in fascination as droplets ran down the ridges and hallows of Dean's muscles. He went back to holding Dean's hand and humming softly.

After a good fifteen more minutes, Sam figured the water was probably getting cool, even with the trickle of hot water into it. And the water was getting kinda high at this point. Not ready to splash over the sides or anything, but the tub was about half filled.

Squeezing Dean's hand, he said softly, "C'mon Dean, time to wake up. Let's finish your bath and you can sleep in the bed for a few hours. Wake up."

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 26 2010, 10:49 PM

Dean was having a really good dream.

He was laying on a blanket in a field next to a tall tree. The air was warm, but the shade from the tree kept it from getting too hot. His eyes were closed but he could feel the warmth of the sunlight gently caressing his skin, sifting ever so slightly every time there was a slight breeze and the leaves rustled above him. He was naked, and he wasn’t alone, but that didn’t bother Dean in the least. Especially when soft warm fingers began to caress his skin feeling even better than the sunlight, moving over his chest, his arms, and down his legs. Just touching him, not in a sexual way, but it felt good nonetheless.

“Sam…” He knew it was the younger boy, even without opening his eyes. As much as he wanted to open his eyes he kept them closed, not wanting to risk Sam stopping if he did. It felt too good. When he heard the younger boy call his name softly however, Dean finally did blink his eyes open slowly.

Dean blinked in confusion for a moment, because he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, then he realized quickly he’d been dreaming. Sam really was there however, so Dean couldn’t really complain too much. Even though he was still tired and didn’t really want to wake up. Dean yawned hugely, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and gave Sam a warm smile.

“Hey.” 

Brimstone Gold

Sep 29 2010, 12:55 AM

"Hey yourself. You look like you feel better," Sam said, noting that the touch of pallor that had tinged Dean's skin was absent.

"I've washed what I could without disturbing you, but there are parts you still need to get and your hair," Sam made something of a face, "yeah, it definitely needs washing."

After studying Dean a minute he gave a nod and popped the plug on the tub, then took off his shirt. "I'm going to turn on the shower. You stay sitting there, but sit up. While you wash your hair, I'll get your back washed. You can take care of your…uhm, privates. Then we'll get you dried off a little, get you out and to the toilet. I'll finish drying you off, get your ankle wrapped up, get you in some clothes and then put you to bed. To sleep." Sam said, giving Dean a pointed look.

"The first blast of the shower is going to be cold," Sam warned as he turned on the water and the got the temperature adjusted before switching it over to shower mode. He couldn't help but grin a little at Dean's yelp as the cold water first hit him.

After handing Dean the shampoo, he did as promised and soon he shut off the shower and helped Dean get to his feet and helped him out of the shower. Dean looked totally and completely wiped.

"No falling asleep until I get you in bed," Sam told him.

Grabbing a thick towel, he quickly wiped his own chest dry, then began working on the older youth. He wrapped Dean's ankle then helped him get dressed in his boxers and a t-shirt.

 

 

Ithiel Dragon

Sep 29 2010, 10:59 PM

Dean confirmed he was feeling a little better with a small nod. He was still tired as hell but he was feeling quite relaxed and not hurting nearly as much as he had been.

The young man raised an eyebrow though when Sam admitted that he’d washed him before waking him up. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused by the younger boy’s sudden shyness while talking about his ‘privates’. Considering Sam had washed his cock and jerked him off only a few days ago while giving him a sponge bath. Or a little bit upset that Sam hadn’t woken him up first before washing him so that Dean could enjoy it a little.

He settled on making a face when Sam mentioned washing his hair. Not that he didn’t want his hair washed, because Sam was right, it definitely needed it, it was more how girly Sam made it sound. He supposed he couldn’t complain too much when Sam took off his shirt, a hopeful look entering his eyes that Sam might actually get in with him after all.

A look that changed to something of a pout when Sam didn’t remove any more clothes, but Dean did what he was asked and pushed himself up into a sitting position using the edges of the tub for support. The water from the shower head was pretty fucking cold and Dean couldn’t contain a sound of surprise when the water hit him. He gave his grinning boyfriend a mild glare for that one.

The rest of his bath/shower passed rather quickly and it was probably a good thing because Dean was starting to get very tired again. Tired enough he was contemplating just asking Sam for a blanket so he could sleep right here in the tub. He let the younger boy help maneuver him out of the tub without complaint however. Well, without much complaint. Drying him off and getting him dressed passed in a series of yawns, and he couldn’t even enjoy the feeling of Sam’s hands running over him, which really sucked.

Finally Sam helped him to his feet, or foot, and Dean limped along with the younger boy to Sam’s bedroom. He managed to stay awake long enough to sort of help Sam get him tucked into the bed, and then he was out like a light again. 

* * *

Dean had barely laid down and his eyes were shut and he was out cold. Sam stroked Dean's cheek lightly, then kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'm right here. So no bad dreams. You're only allowed to have good dreams," he whispered.

Sam moved over to his desk and cracked open his school books. He usually liked listening to music, but he wanted to make certain if Dean even hinted at getting restless in his sleep, he could be at his side instantly. He sighed heavily. He had always so loved school. It really sucked that Chalmers turned out to be such an awful place. Well, it hadn't been awful when he was Eric's 'boy' but now? Now he hated practically every minute of it. Even with the loss of money, maybe he should ask his parents to put him back in public school. Sure, he was still geekazoid maximus, but the bullies there were generally just bullies not rapists.

Glancing back at Dean, a small smile curved his lips. If he hadn't gone to that horrible school, he never would have met Dean though. While Dean could certainly be a stubborn pain in the ass, and moodier than a girl on the rag, he could also be wonderful and caring. He sure wished Dean was under eighteen though so the whole thing with 'statutory rape' couldn't come into play if anyone found out.

Turning back to his books, he began working out an outline for the paper he had to write.


	14. Chapter 14

  


  
Dean wasn't exactly sure how long he slept, but if he had to guess he'd say it was late afternoon given the light coming in through the windows. The young man yawned and stretched. He felt surprisingly good, which was a nice change. Especially given how much like crap he'd felt earlier. He hadn't had any dreams either, at least none that he remembered, which was also a nice change.

Relaxing in the bed, and remembering that he was in Sam's room and not the den, Dean propped his head up on his arm and looked around. He'd caught a glimpse of Sam's room when he'd first used the boy's shower but he hadn't been able to take in any of the details. The walls were pretty much bare, which surprised Dean a little, but there were things here and there Dean wasn't surprised to find in a geek's room. Like the Rubik's cube and chess set, not to mention a lot of fucking books on science and computers and shit. 

Then again, given how many books Bobby kept in the house, it wasn't all that out of the ordinary to Dean. The young man wondered if Sam kept his porn hidden in his science books. That thought was enough to make Dean grin.

His eyes eventually landed on the desk across the bed where Sam was currently sitting, diligently working on his homework by the looks of it. It was obvious that the younger boy didn't realize he was awake yet, so Dean took the time just to watch Sam taking notes, typing things into his computer, and chewing on the end of his pencil… Was it fucked up for Dean to think that was kind of hot?

"You've got a nice bed." Dean finally said to get Sam's attention, not forgetting the same compliment that the younger boy had given _his_ bed at home.    


* * *

Sam was deeply entrenched in his report and was trying to decide how he wanted to approach the next part. He wasn't sure if he should go into the personal relationship next, or continue with the battle history. But the guy went back into battle and did some of the brazen things that he did, because his wife died in childbirth and he didn't have anything to lose as far as he was concerned.

Dean's words made him practically jump out of his skin. He wasn't used to anybody being in the room with him when he studied, except if his mom brought him a snack or something to drink. A gasp escaped him and he turned sharply.

It was Dean. It was just Dean. Okay, he'd had a few too many dreams of someone being in the room and watching him, someone he couldn't see, or just see the yellow gleam of his eyes.

Sam exhaled slowly. "Glad you like it. I usually sleep really good in it. And you didn't have any bad dreams this time. Must be my presence makes you feel safe, me being your protector and all while you're sleeping." Sam grinned at him, but his heart was still hammering in his chest and he could feel the definite spike of adrenaline. How silly was that?

* * *

Dean’s eyebrow’s shot up when Sam practically jumped out of his skin. It wasn’t the first time. Sam seemed to have a habit of forgetting that he was in the room… or maybe it was just the younger boy was simply engrossed and he hadn’t been expecting the interruption. Still, Sam’s reaction seemed a little… extreme.

Dean knew his expression was concerned when Sam finally looked at him, but he forced it away once the younger boy started to speak. It was pretty obvious that whatever it was, Sam didn’t want to talk about it. So he’d let it go… for now.

“My protector, huh? Thought that was the other way around.” Dean joked lightly, his lips quirking up into a smile. It was easier to joke about it than admit that it was kind of true. Given the nightmares he’d been having since he’d been here, waking up screaming, or on the floor clutching Sam like he was his life line… yeah, better to joke about it.

“You look like you could use a break.” Dean finally announced, patting the bed beside him and giving Sam an inviting look.

* * *

"Just while you're sleeping," Sam confirmed. He looked back at his homework and then at Dean. He really should try to finish this…but he could always work on it later. He stood up and stretched. "Yep. I could use a break."

Walking over to Dean he settled on the bed by him. "You look a lot better rested now. And you smell better too," Sam teased. "Of course, you've slept like half the day away. I got all my homework done except for a stupid report that was apparently assigned before I started that the teacher didn't tell me about. Only way I found out about it was because Randall asked if I almost had mine done and who I was doing it on. It's due this next week and I have to have a minimum of twenty references and it has to be over ten thousand words. I swear that school has almost nothing but jerks and assholes." He looked at Dean, "Not you of course. I can't wait until this school year is over and I can go back to a regular high school. I've always really liked school. Until now. Being Supergeek will be a whole lot better than being what I am now."

Sam stretched out on the bed since there was plenty of room for both of them and spooned up against Dean, pulling Dean's arm over and around his waist. "Only good thing out of this has been meeting you and Bobby. Must be that 'silver lining' crap they always talk about. You feeling better?"

* * *

  
Dean grinned when Sam so easily agreed to take a break. He should probably feel honored or something that the younger boy decided to choose him over his homework. Though Sam had hesitated… for a moment.

Sam didn’t ask him to scoot over, which was just fine for him. In fact, Sam settled right up next to him.

When the other boy started lamenting about his paper due, and what assholes the teacher’s were, Dean could only nod in sympathy. He’d been saying that for years. Almost everyone there was a prick. At least, they were pricks to students like him and Sam who weren’t from the ‘right’ families.

Sam would probably do a hell of a lot better back in a regular school. He had a feeling the younger boy wouldn’t even need that damned prep school’s name on his record to get into the best colleges.

Dean couldn’t help but smile though when Sam clarified that _he_ wasn’t a jerk or an asshole. Even though he hadn’t been all that nice to Sam when they’d first met, that as for damned sure. He still was a jerk too sometimes. But Sam still liked him, and it would probably never cease to amaze Dean.

“I am.” Dean confirmed with a nod, smiling when Sam tugged his arm around him and he held the younger boy close, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against him. He probably shouldn’t. He hadn’t even checked to see if the door was open or not. Oh hell…

“Much better.” He added before he leaned in and slanted his mouth over Sam’s. He kissed the younger boy almost chastely at first but quickly deepened it, licking his way into the younger boy’s mouth with a low moan. 

* * *

The kiss didn't really come as any surprise as Sam twisted his head to meet Dean's lips. The kiss seemed to last forever, like there was no one else but the two of them. He wanted to turn in Dean's arm but he knew where that would lead and Dean _had_ just gotten a bath. It would be kind of hard to explain why Dean needed another shower. So he just laid there against Dean, letting Dean kiss the daylights out of him as he tried to respond in kind. He felt Dean's hand start to wander and grabbed hold of his arm. He managed a "Behave." in between their kisses. The door was shut, but who knew when his parents would come check on them. With the door shut it was harder to hear someone coming up the stairs, especially with the soft moans they were both making.

When Dean finally stopped kissing him, Sam smiled at him kind of dazedly. "That was…wow. I can't wait for you to be up to more 'strenuous' exercise. And to be back at Bobby's where…uhm, parents can't sneak up on you." He held Dean's arm tighter against him.

Sam sighed happily just laying there with his boyfriend. He smiled to himself, liking very much to have someone that meant something to him outside of family. He loved his parents but it was nice to have this too. He really hadn't been in touch with many of his friends except by email since he started at Chalmers. With his parents working, and all his homework, he really couldn't get together with them except for the occasional weekend bar-b-que. He still regretted losing what he had thought was a great friendship with Eric. He had had such a great time until Eric showed his true colors.

"What was your nightmare about?" Sam asked softly.

* * *

Dean decided he could definitely get used to this kind of homework break, even though it was Sam who was technically taking the break. The younger boy was warm and pliant in his arms, turning just enough to meet his kisses and giving back as good as he got. Their tongues played together slowly, like they had all the time in the world, and as far as Dean was concerned they did.

He couldn’t really help it when his hands started to wander along Sam’s body; he just loved touching Sam. His fingers trying to slip underneath clothes searching out bare skin to touch and caress. He also couldn’t help the small sound of complaint he made when Sam asked him to stop.

While he knew Sam had a point, that it was a bad idea to do this here and now, he couldn’t help still being a little disappointed. Even as good as the kissing was he wanted to touch Sam… But he would behave, because Sam asked him to.

When Dean finally let the younger boy up for breath he couldn’t help grin widely at Sam’s slightly dazed look. He had a feeling if Sam had been standing up the younger boy would have been weak in the knees right now and that just made Dean damned proud. Especially with Sam’s added compliment. ‘Wow’, he wondered if Sam was trying to give him a boost to his ego, well it was working.

Yeah, he couldn’t wait either, and god damn Eric for making him wait. He would kick that bastard’s ass from one end of town to the other just for that alone.

“No parents, just Bobby.” Dean gave a laugh and slight shudder at that thought. Even though the older man was being remarkably cool about him and Sam being together, he had a feeling Bobby wouldn’t be quite so cool about walking in on them fucking each other’s brains out. So best to wait till Bobby was gone on a nice long pick up just to make sure.

Dean started to nuzzle the back of Sam’s neck, deciding he could really get used to this whole ‘snuggling’ thing too, when Sam asked his question and Dean froze. There was no way the younger boy couldn’t notice how tense he’d suddenly become, as close together as they were lying. Dean also knew as much as he wanted to lie to Sam about it, he couldn’t. Even though the fact that he hadn’t corrected Sam’s assumptions earlier that the dream had been about Eric hurting Sam was something of a lie in itself…

“I dreamt you were with me… and then suddenly you weren’t… he took you away. The… man with the yellow eyes…” Dean began reluctantly, his voice soft but he knew Sam could hear him as close as his lips were to the younger boy’s ear, even as his voice seemed to grow even softer as he continued. “I tried to get to you but something was holding me back. He was. You were calling my name… I tried… but I couldn’t hold onto you. Then he said… you were never mine to begin with…” 

* * *

Sam expected Dean to just say he didn't want to talk about it and to let it go, and he would have. He felt the tension in the senior and felt a little badly. He hadn't meant to ruin the moment. It was just thoughts of Eric had brought Dean's dream back to him and he sort of wanted to know what Dean had dreamed about with Eric and Sam.

When Dean told him it was yellow eyes, his breath caught a little. He turned in Dean's arms and stared into his eyes, seeing the pain in them. The yellow eyed man. Again. He remembered the dream he had had so recently about yellow eyes telling him he was progressing nicely and how proud he was of him. It still sent shivers down his spine. He wasn't going to tell Dean about his dream though. No way. They had both been dreaming about yellow eyes way too much. He wondered if Bobby was right and yellow eyes really was a demon. Did that mean the demon was really talking to them? Or were the nightmares just that? Nothing but nightmares. He decided it was the latter. He cupped the back of Dean's head and gave him the hottest kiss he possibly could.

"That's what I think of Azazel—of yellow eyes--and what he said. Maybe…maybe it won't work out between us, but if it doesn't it's _not_ going to be because of dreams of yellow eyes. You're my boyfriend. I'm keeping you. Screw him. Maybe I wasn't yours to begin with, I was Eric's, but you rescued me. And now I am yours for as long as you want me to be."

As if to confirm that, he gave Dean another kiss and ran his hand along Dean's back.

* * *

Dean felt the immediate tension in the younger boy when he mentioned ‘Yellow Eyes’ to Sam. Dean hadn’t wanted to tell him. He wished Sam hadn’t asked. But at the same time, it was almost… a relief… to tell the younger boy.

Maybe it was because Sam might be the only person who really understood the terror he felt from those dreams. Even though Bobby had never treated him like he was crazy when Dean had finally told the older hunter about the ‘yellow eyed’ man he dreamed about, it still wasn’t the same. Bobby might understand, but he still didn’t know what it was like watching a demon murder your family over and over every night. Sometimes the dreams happened exactly the way Dean remembered from when he was a boy, sometimes they were different but no less terrifying. But they were still only dreams, either from memories or his own frightened imagination. This… this had felt different.

That was part of the problem too. Because Sam dreamed about the demon too, and how could they both be dreaming about a yellow eyed demon? Dean didn’t want to worry Sam, or make him afraid some monster was after him or something, but how could it be a coincidence? What if something _did_ happen? What if the demon was after Sam for some reason and Dean didn’t even warn him?

When Sam turned in his arms, Dean could see the fear in Sam’s eyes and he didn’t know what to say now. It had been hard enough talking about this when the younger boy wasn’t looking at him and now he felt mute. Dean certainly wasn’t expecting Sam to suddenly kiss him so hard and deep it nearly left him breathless.

When Sam finally let him breathe and started to speak Dean found the air he did inhale suddenly frozen in his lungs. Azazel? Where the hell had Sam heard that name? Dean had never even been able to tell Bobby anything more about the demon except it had yellow eyes, which was definitely unusual for a demon but not much to go on. How the fuck did Sam know a demon’s name?! Dean’s lingering hopes that this really was some kind of fucked up coincidence with them both dreaming about yellow eyes pretty much flew out the window at this point.

Sam’s words about how he was his, and always would be, would have made Dean’s heart do very girly flip flops any other time but right now his heart was frozen with fear. When Sam kissed him again, Dean wished he could just forget about everything else and enjoy it but he couldn’t. He had to know…

Placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders he pushed the younger boy away… maybe for the first time ever.

“Where did you hear that name, Sam?” 

* * *

Sam was surprised when Dean actually broke their kiss. Dean was always hot for another kiss, but he could see the worry and concern, maybe even fear in Dean's eyes. When Dean asked him, he wasn't sure how to explain it. He also kind of hated to bring up Dean's nightmare at Bobby's but Dean wanted to know and that was where it had come to him.

"I didn't, not really," Sam said hesitantly. "You had your bad dream at Bobby's about the yellow eyed man. When Bobby told me it was a demon, the word 'Azazel' just kinda popped into my head. I don't know why. But it's the demon's name, I'm pretty sure. Bobby said the demon's killed some families. I think I've dreamed about that too. Bobby said you'd actually seen the demon and asked me if I had. I haven't. Just in my dreams, though sometimes I feel like I'm being watched. Creeps me out."

Sam chewed on his lip a minute and finally asked, "Is that how you lost your mom and dad? In a fire? And that's where you saw Yellow Eyes?"

* * *

When Sam mentioned the dream he’d had at Bobby’s, the first one the younger boy had been present for, Dean frowned slightly. He’d almost forgotten about that. Considering all the shit that had gone down since then he supposed he could be forgiven. But it wasn’t like Bobby to ‘forget’ something like that.

Why the hell hadn’t Bobby told him that he and Sam had talked about ‘Yellow Eyes’? The fact that Sam, his boyfriend, somehow knew the name of the demon that had killed Dean’s parents… Didn’t Bobby think that was something he’d want to fucking know! Why hadn’t Bobby told him?

Dean wanted to feel relieved when Sam said that he hadn’t actually seen the demon, but he couldn’t. The fact that Sam had dreams about the fucking thing was bad enough, but the younger boy knew its name! How could Sam know something like that? Demons didn’t just go around whispering their names, their true names, into people’s ears.

When Sam said he felt like he was being watched, Dean felt a shiver go through him. He wanted to believe that he was overreacting. That maybe Sam was wrong, maybe he’d just read that name somewhere in a book or something and subconsciously given it to his nightmares. He wanted to believe Sam’s dreams were just nightmares brought on by one too many scary movies, but he couldn’t afford to be that naïve.

He’d forced himself into denial too much already, wanting to protect Sam, to keep him out of this ugly world, but the truth was the younger boy was already neck deep whether he wanted to believe it or not. Maybe Sam was some kind of psychic? Maybe his family had encountered the demon before and Sam was too young to really remember more than fragments? The possibilities were endless, but the truth was that Sam somehow knew things about the demon, and that meant he was in danger.

Then Sam asked him about his family, how they died, if that’s where he’d seen the demon… Christ this was such a fucked up conversation. But Sam wasn’t looking at him like he was crazy, or just weird. He just seemed worried, concerned… and Dean knew he had to tell him the truth. Even if Sam _did_ think he was crazy by the time he was done. He couldn’t protect Sam if he lied to him.

“I was four…” Dean started, licking his lips and averting his eyes, staring at the younger boy’s throat instead of his eyes as he spoke because somehow that made it easier. Or at least he liked to believe it. Even after all this time it wasn’t easy to talk about. “My mom’s scream woke me up in the middle of the night. At first I thought it was a nightmare, but then I heard my Dad running up the stairs and calling my mom’s name, and I knew it was real.”

“I got out of bed and I ran to my little brother’s room, where the scream came from. My mom was there… she… she was pinned to the ceiling… bleeding. She wasn’t dead… yet… not until she burst into flames. I wanted to run but I was frozen.” Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing.

“That’s when I saw him, in the room, through the smoke. The yellow eyes… he was laughing. The fire burned faster and hotter than anything I’d ever seen or felt before. My dad gave me my brother, told me to get out of the house, to run… and I did. I ran outside with my brother and I waited, but my parents never came out.”

* * *

Sam listened to Dean's story, seeing the pain it brought to his boyfriend's eyes and it nearly broke his heart. Four years old and seeing your mom—on the ceiling—bleeding and then bursting into flames? He wanted to believe Dean was lying to him, making it up, ready to look up and grin and say 'Gotcha!', but he knew in his gut it was the truth. And Dean had a brother? What happened to him? Where was he? Did the yellow eyed man get Dean's little brother too? He kind of shuddered at that thought and held Dean a little closer as if to try to soothe away the pain from all the loss he had suffered. A four year old probably didn’t know you couldn't tell adults that story without them thinking you were crazy. And Dean was stubborn. He probably stuck to his guns about the story until he was a little older, until he realized no one would ever believe him. Finding Bobby was probably the best thing that could have happened to Dean. To have someone finally believe you and tell you you weren't crazy. To have someone care and try to make the dreams go away. He knew when he had his dreams, if he didn't have his parents, he would be a wreck and probably be in some mental institution or given drugs or something.

He knew his mom was worried about the dreams he had, and worried that the yellow eyed man was real and trying to get to him. He knew all the tales of supernatural creatures that his great-great-great whatever grandfather had supposedly fought. Knew all the lore about creatures his ancestor hadn't gone up against. If demons were real and werewolves were probably real, then all the stories his mom made him learn…they were probably real things too. He hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask his mom that question yet, probably because he was afraid of the answer he knew she would give him. Yes, they were all real.

He knew his mom did things, secret things, leaving little marks here and there, knew she went up in the attic at least once a month using some excuse of putting something up there or bringing something down, or organizing or repacking boxes. He had gone up there but couldn't figure out what his mom was up to. At least until he noticed the pipes that ringed the entire attic. Based on what he had seen at Bobby's place, he figured the pipes were maybe filled with salt, or holy water or something. He didn't want to mess something up so he hadn't pulled any of the pipes apart to see.

It was kind of like every nagging little question he had ever had was beginning to come together. He also knew that sometimes when his mom went off to an archery tournament that she took the special bow with her. Did his mom…hunt…these bad things? Could the bow kill evil things? The stories said it could. Even said the bolts could kill a demon. So could the swords he had only gotten to see once when they were in Japan. He could fight with a sword though he wasn't all that good. Of course, he had been a lot smaller then. He sometimes helped his mom train when she wanted to practice, but still, he just didn’t seem to have the natural grace and coordination of his mother.

He refocused on Dean and stroked his face as he asked, "Your little brother. What…what happened to him?"

* * *

Dean had been avoiding looking directly at Sam when he told the story. Maybe he was a coward for it, but he had been afraid of what he would see. What if Sam thought he was fucking bonkers like most of the people in his life he’d told that story to thought he was? What if Sam was afraid of him now? He couldn’t even really blame the younger boy if he was. It _did_ sound crazy, even to him after so long. If Dean hadn’t met Bobby, hadn’t become a hunter, if he hadn’t seen it happen with his own eyes he probably would have called anyone else insane too if they’d told that story to him. So he couldn’t really blame Sam if the younger boy thought he was completely nuts… but that didn’t mean Dean was ready to see it.

But of all the things Sam could have said to him. Of all the things that Sam could have done. Dean hadn’t expected the soft touch of the younger boy’s fingers caressing his face like he was… precious or something.

Dean finally looked up at Sam’s soft question and he had to blink back the sting of tears in his eyes at what he saw. Or more accurately, what he didn’t see. There was no sign of disbelief on the younger boy’s face that he’d feared would be there. There was no sign of fear or anger, only sadness. For him. Sam was sad for him. And it wasn’t the same as the pity some had displayed for the ‘poor little crazy kid’ Dean had endured before he’d stopped telling the truth of what had happened to his parents. Sam believed him…

“They took him away from me.” Dean couldn’t stop the bitter anger that dripped from every word and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t really want to talk about this, but might as well get it over with now since he’d already opened up this can of worms.

“They thought I was to ‘damaged’. Sent me to shrinks and doctors that put me on meds but I wasn’t getting any ‘better’. They finally sent me to a hospital, away from my brother. So I wouldn’t damage him too. They said I could see him again once I was better, but they lied to me. My brother was adopted and the records were lost in some kind of freak fire. I don’t know what happened to him…”

* * *

Sam looked into Dean's eyes as he told him that his brother had been taken away, that they called him crazy just like Sam figured they had. He couldn't imagine being so young, losing your family in some fire that a…demon…started. Obviously the demon had killed the mother. Probably Dean's dad too, unless the dad just died from the fire. To have been charged with rescuing your little baby brother and then the authorities taking him away too. No wonder Dean was distrustful. Maybe it explained a little of why Dean didn't like his parents. He lost his family. Adults took what little he had left away, then promised him he would get to see his brother and lied to him about that too.

He smiled only to himself, he didn't want Dean to think he was laughing at him or anything, but he realized Dean was extremely possessive of him. Dean was worried Sam's parents would do what every other adult had done. Take away something he dared to care about.

The adoption records lost in a freak fire. Yeah, freak fire his ass. The yellow-eyed man probably did that too so Dean couldn't find the brother. What did the yellow-eyed man want with Dean's brother? Why keep them apart? Why didn't it just kill Dean if it didn't want Dean to interfere? Probably because it was just a fucking bastard.

What did it want with Sam, though? Azazel said he was progressing nicely. Progressing into what? The whole thing with Eric and Dean, it _had_ made him stronger, more willing to fight and protect. It bothered him deeply. He supposed it was time to confront his mother. To ask about the things he didn't really want answers to. To see if she knew the yellow-eyed man was a demon named Azazel.

Maybe he could find Dean's brother. There couldn't be that many kids adopted out in those couple years. And where was this fire? Where was Dean from? He would find the boy, somehow. He would give that gift to Dean if it was humanly possible.

"Where did you live when this happened? Was it in town? How long did it take before you started lying and telling them you made it all up or whatever?"

* * *

Sam was quiet for a long time after he’d finished speaking. Dean could tell that the younger boy was thinking, but he had no idea what could be on Sam’s mind right now. The possibilities were endless, but at least Sam wasn’t calling him crazy or a freak. Small favors…

Dean was a little bit surprised however at the questions Sam asked when he finally spoke. Well, on second thought, he probably shouldn’t be surprised. Sam probably wanted to check up on his story. Make sure that Dean wasn’t lying to him or that he really was crazy. Why should Sam trust he was telling the truth? It sounded completely insane so Dean couldn’t really blame the other boy for wanting to check the facts. Being a hunter, it was something Dean would have done if their places were reversed.

He should probably be glad that Sam hadn’t asked him more about his brother, like his name. He wasn’t sure how Sam would take hearing that his baby brother and he had the same name. It was a hell of a coincidence, but Sam might think he was some kind of sicko looking for a replacement for his long lost brother or something. Like he hadn’t already given Sam enough reason to run the hell away from him and never look back.

“It didn’t happen here, no. It happened in Lawrence, Kansas. I was six when they finally decided I was better enough to go into foster care. I was still considered a problem though so I got moved around a lot from family to family. I finally ran away when I was twelve. Lived on the streets a couple of years before Bobby found me in his junk yard.” Dean told the younger boy and then shrugged slightly. Yeah, that was his whole fucked up life pretty much in a nutshell. 

* * *

Dean a problem child? Imagine that. With all the baggage he had, it was a wonder Dean was even as together as he was. He couldn't imagine living with a dozen different families and then it being so awful you ran away when you were only twelve. And living on the streets? How a twelve year old could survive was almost unfathomable to him. Not like Dean could go to homeless shelters or soup kitchens or anything, because he would probably get reported to child services. He frowned a little as he realized what Dean had probably done. Had to steal and maybe even…whore himself out. A month ago that thought would have never even entered his mind, but he wasn't as innocent as he had been a month ago. And how did he get from Kansas to South Dakota? Fostering was a state thing. Maybe he did it when he ran away. One would think a kid would go south, to where it was warmer though!

"Kansas? We lived in Kansas City until I was two or three I think. I don't remember it of course," Sam said. "Bobby told me the demon had killed some families with fire. Did anyone survive those fires? Kids? …And do you think yellow eyes is still watching you? Or do you think it's just nightmares? I…want to think mine are just nightmares but…like I said, I feel like I'm being watched sometimes and him talking to me in my dreams, telling me how good I was doing…I don't think its my mind making it up. I don't think my mom thinks it is either."

* * *

Sam had lived in… Ok, that stunned Dean more than a little bit. But if Sam had lived in Kansas and the demon had been active in that area during the time Sam had lived there maybe that explained some things about how Sam dreamed about the demon. Maybe Sam _had_ seen it, when he was a small child, but the memory had faded. Or maybe his mother had been hunting at the time and come across the demon. She said she never told Sam stories about a yellow eyed demon, but he’d also had a feeling she’d been holding something back from him.

Dean really wished Bobby was here. Fucking werewolf. He needed to talk to the older hunter about this. The older man had done his best to try and help him track down the demon that had killed his family, but there wasn’t much to go on. The nursery fires seemed to be the only real link between the demon’s attacks. They were sporadic, all over the country, and no real pattern. Then they suddenly stopped all around the same time, about fifteen years ago. No sign of the demon since then.

“Bobby managed to track down about a dozen incidents of unexplained fires happening in nurseries. Sometimes there were survivors, but that’s where the trail ends. Fifteen years ago the attacks suddenly stop and there’s been no sign of the demon since then.”

Dean shook his head when Sam asked him if he thought the demon was still watching him.

“No, they’re just dreams.” He answered that question easily enough. They were just nightmares. They’d never felt like anything else… until the last one.

But Sam’s were different. Sam didn’t fit the pattern. His family was still alive. But Sam still dreamt of the demon. Sam knew its name. Sam said he felt like someone, the demon, was watching him. Speaking to him…

“We need to talk to your mom.” Dean finally said, even though he hated to admit it. Sam’s mother was a hunter and Dean wasn’t sure if this could wait until Bobby returned. 

* * *

That Dean actually _wanted_ to talk to his mother was a surprise. And about this? Sam really hadn't talked much to his mother about his nightmares for a long time. He usually just told her it was the same old stuff, which it mostly was. He hadn't told her he knew the demon's name now, or that the demon had talked to him. So much had been going on he hadn't really had the chance, but he didn't know if he would have anyhow. She got such a worried look in her eyes when he told her about any of it.

"I know Mom knows stuff, but I don't know that she can really help. I don't know that anyone can help. Mom gave me the dream bag and silver stiletto, and the bow can kill demons supposedly. But how do you kill a demon in a dream? I guess maybe the dream bag would keep it out, but I don't know. And how do you keep someone from watching you? I can't even keep a human from stalking me. How can I keep a demon from it?"

The demon killed with fire. He wondered if maybe the woman with the blond hair in his dreams had been a babysitter and if there had been a fire when he was little. He always remembered orange light and heat. Didn't take much to guess that was a fire. But if that was the case, how come his mother never mentioned it? Of course, if a woman was killed, she wouldn't want him to know that.

"My nightmares, I forget them a lot of times, you know, any real detail, and just wake up scared. But…the dreams they make me think of fire. Maybe…maybe there was a fire in my room when I was little. Mom's never mentioned anything about it but I don't know if she'd tell me what with all my nightmares and night terrors."

Sam bit his lip. "If there really is a demon after me, you don't think the demon would try to hurt my family do you? The demon only kills with fire in nurseries, right? No record of older kids losing their parents with the same pattern, right? Have you ever gone and talked to anyone who survived these fires?"

* * *

Dean knew he’d promised Sam’s mother he wouldn’t mention hunting to the younger boy and at the time he agreed with it. But things were different now. Way different. Before it had been just dreams, bad fucking dreams that sucked majorly, but still just dreams. But if the dreams were something more…

Just hearing Sam put it to words, a demon stalking him, sent a chill down Dean’s spine. Fuck, he wished it was just that bastard Eric they had to worry about now. He didn’t know how to answer Sam’s questions. After all, before today he hadn’t even known the demon’s name! They’d found less than a handful of instances where the demon had shown itself again, and nothing for years. No leads had ever panned out, much to Dean’s frustration.

Dean could feel that familiar frustration building in him again, this time mingled with a new fear. Fear for Sam. He wasn’t going to let that fucking bastard demon touch Sam! He wasn’t going to let it take away one more person he cared about!

“Sam, I told you the trail went cold on the demon years ago. Bobby and I have been looking for the demon for years, but every lead has been a dead end. Right now, for some reason, you know more than I do. I do know whatever the demon wants, it’s not going to stop until it’s exorcised or dead, and it’s not going to let anything or anyone get in its way.”

Dean paused and came to a decision.

“Your mom knows more than just ‘stuff’. She was a hunter. Just like me and Bobby. All those books Bobby has about werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and demons? Most of it is true. Monsters exist and we kill them. Bobby and Jeff’s parents are hunting a werewolf right now. Jeff is a hunter too. We need to talk to Bobby about all this, but I don’t know if this can wait, so we need to talk to your mom. At the very least we can start beefing up the protections around this place.”

* * *

Sam was silent, staring into Dean's eyes. They both knew what the demon wanted. Sam. Sam wasn't sure what the demon wanted him for and that scared him almost as much as knowing a demon wanted him for something in the first place. And why the hell _did_ he know the demon's name? He didn't recall the yellow eyed man ever saying it to him in one of his dreams. …Maybe that blonde woman was an angel and she said it. No, that was stupid. But…if there were demons, then there had to be angels. And if Sam had seen the yellowed eyed man, why couldn't he have seen an angel, too? Sam knew she was pretty, he was just simply sure of it, even if he couldn't see her face. He bet her voice was angelic too.

When Dean said his mom was a 'hunter,' he furrowed his brow. She was a hunter, Dean and Bobby and like, everyone except his dad and himself were hunters? …And monsters were real.

He never ever wanted it to be more than just a stupid childhood fear but in his gut he knew it was the truth. He edged himself a closer to Dean. "Let's just pretend it's not real, that monsters aren't real. Just for a little bit longer, okay?" he begged softly.

* * *

Dean could tell Sam was freaked out. Hell, the boy had every right to be freaked out. Dean was freaking out himself and he’d already known demons existed. But could he have at least tried to soften the blow a little? Maybe. Maybe not. Dean honestly wasn’t sure there _was_ a way to put something like this ‘gently’. He wished there was. But how else did you tell someone that all their worst nightmares were real? No, maybe there wasn’t an easy way to put it.

As Dean waited for Sam to take it all in he practically held his breath waiting for the younger boy’s response. Would Sam believe him? Or would the younger boy call him a liar and a freak like everyone else? What if Sam told him to get out and never come back? How could he protect Sam if Sam never wanted to see him again?

Or… what if he was putting Sam in danger by being with him? What if it was because of him that the demon had such an interest in Sam? Of course Dean knew logically that couldn’t be the case. Sam had dreamed of the yellow eyed ‘man’ long before they’d ever met. But now that the thought had entered his head he couldn’t banish it. That Sam had been safe, that his dreams had only been dreams before Dean had come along, and now… Maybe Dean _should_ go away, leave Sam alone, and maybe the demon would lose interest…

Dean wished it was that simple.

But Sam didn’t tell him to leave. Instead the younger boy scooted closer to him, as though Dean could protect him. But Dean hadn’t even been able to protect Sam from Eric. How was Dean supposed to protect the younger boy from this? Doubts and fears churned inside of him, making Dean feel sick and terrified, almost worse than he’d been when he was a boy. The idea of losing Sam…

For a few moments Dean didn’t answer Sam’s soft question, but he finally nodded.

“Okay.” Dean whispered and tightened his arms around the younger boy. Holding Sam close to him he tucked the younger boy against his chest and let his chin rest on top of Sam’s head. While this definitely wasn’t a problem they could just ignore and hope it would go away, a few minutes probably wasn’t going to matter. He could give Sam that at least. He owed Sam that. 

* * *

Sam was relieved that Dean didn't say 'no' and that they had to go talk to his mother this instant. He felt Dean's arms wrap tighter around him and he sighed, feeling safer, as if Dean could protect him from anything, even the yellow eyed demon named Azazel.

He just laid there for a bit, soaking up Dean's warmth and his love. Dean made him feel so special and so important. He made him feel all sorts of emotions he couldn't even put names to. He supposed that was all kinds of girlie, but the truth was the truth.

"I'm glad you're mine," Sam said softly. "And I'm glad I'm yours. You make me feel safe. Just you being around, and when you've got an arm over my shoulder, or arms around me like now.

"It's confusing," Sam said softly. He tilted his head back and looked into Dean's eyes. "Not you and me. I mean, demons being real. Werewolves and monsters and stuff being real. People pretending to be awesome nice, caring, and then…then their souls are darker than maybe even any demon." Sam laid his head against Dean's chest and listened to his heart beat. "You're like an anchor for me. No matter how confusing or scary, my family and you and Bobby, I know it'll be okay. That I'll be okay. No matter what happens, I know I've got all of you to watch out for me. And I'll watch out for you. Or try to. You need to teach me more, I need to get better at watching and fighting, so I can help. So we can all watch out for each other."

With a soft, reluctant sigh, Sam said, "I guess we better talk with Mom now, huh?"

* * *

“So am I.” Dean admitted, a slow smile spreading over his face in spite of the grim direction their discussion had taken before. _I’m glad that you’re mine and I’m glad I’m yours._ For someone who got all bent out of shape just because Dean called him ‘baby’ because it was too girly Sam sure did say a lot of girly things. Maybe Dean was a little more girly than he wanted to admit too since he really liked hearing it.

When Sam looked up at him, so trusting, Dean wanted nothing more than to kiss him. He even started to lean in to do just that when the younger boy interrupted him. Yes, he could understand Sam’s confusion but he was also taking it remarkably well, all things considered. And while Dean hated that bastard Eric more than he could probably describe in words for what he had done to Sam… it had brought him Sam. Dean never would have wished any of this on the younger boy, but if one good thing had come from this whole fucking mess it was them, together.

He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, take Sam away from him. He wasn’t going anywhere, unless Sam himself told him to leave.

“I’ll be here however long you want me.” Dean whispered, and nodded when Sam asked him to teach him. The same promise he’d made before and different too. Now he wasn’t just teaching Sam to protect himself from the school bully. He didn’t know what Sam’s mom would say about that, but he didn’t care. He wanted Sam to be able to protect himself if something happened to him.

“Yeah.” He replied a small reluctant sigh, more for the fact that their stolen moment was coming to end than anything else, Dean nodded when Sam asked if he should get his mother. 

* * *

Sam pushed himself up enough to be able to kiss Dean, taking the time to tangle his tongue with Dean's, to do a bit of a slow investigation of the senior's mouth. After running his hand lightly along Dean's shoulder, he then carded his fingers through Dean's hair. He finally broke off the kiss.

Cupping Dean's cheek he smiled. "Can't get too excited. I don't want to go downstairs sprouting wood. I think…I think maybe I should have Mom come up here. I know you could manage the stairs, but you said Mom knows stuff, not Dad. I'll…ask Mom if Dad should be included in the discussion. If not, then seems like it might be better to be up here, so Dad doesn't walk in on us talking about things that would maybe freak him. I know it would freak me. Hell it does freak me." He shook his head. "Demons. Jesus."

He pushed himself off the bed. "Okay, I'm going now," Sam said, staring at Dean's lips. He couldn't help himself and stole another quick kiss. "Dammit," he muttered softly. He just wanted to curl up with Dean and forget about anything else.

After a last lingering look, he headed out the door and downstairs. He found his mother in the dining room, working.

"You're going to give me bad work ethics and make me into a workaholic," Sam said as he slid into the chair by his mother.

"When you like what you do, it doesn't seem like work," Keiko said, smiling at her son. "So how's Dean doing?"

"Pretty good. He slept really good after his shower. And I got a lot of my report done." Sam fiddled with a pencil lying on the table. "Mom, I, uh, I think it's time we talked. Dean dreams of the yellow eyed man too. He saw him—it—when his parents were killed in a fire. The last dream he had, the yellow-eyed man, the _demon_ told Dean it was going to take me away from him. And I recently dreamed it was telling me how good I was doing, how proud it was of me." He chewed on his lip as he looked into his mother's dark eyes. "I know its name," Sam whispered. "It's Azazel. It's real, isn't it? Demons are real."

Keiko listened to her son, he jaw clenching as Sam talked about the demon. She let out a small gasp when Sam said he knew its name. She finally gave a small nod. "Yes, honey. They're real."

"So's everything else, all those stories, they're all true. All those scrolls you make me read over and over, it's history, not just stories."

"Yes," she said simply.

"Are you a hunter? Is Dad?" he asked.

So Dean had told him, or confirmed Sam's suspicions. She couldn't deny she was a little pissed at the young man. It hadn't been his place. But if Sam knew the demon's name and told Dean…yes, she could see that might push Dean to reveal to Sam the truth.

"I was," she said quietly. "I do the occasional job. Your father knows nothing about any of it and I'd rather he didn't. Of course, your father is very good at playing dumb when he wants to, so it's hard to say what he might suspect."

"Dean thinks we ought to talk, the three of us. Would you come up to my room where we can?"

She sighed softly. "This isn't the way I wanted this talk to go, but with that yellow eyed bastard making himself known, I think it's best we do talk."

She got to her feet and went into the kitchen, grabbing three cans of Coke, and then followed Sam up to his room.

* * *

Sam’s kiss was welcome and Dean didn’t want it to end, but he knew the younger boy was right, the last thing they needed was for Sam to go get his mom sprouting a woody. That would be hell to explain. Bad enough they had to have this talk with Sam’s mother in the first place.

He gave a nod to the younger boy when Sam suggested he ask his mother to come up here. Even if Dean thought it would probably be in everyone’s best interest if Sam’s dad knew what the hell was going on too, that was up to Sam and Keiko to decide. Sometime soon it might be necessary, but then again maybe it wouldn’t be. Dean hoped for the latter but if anything Dean’s life had taught him it was better to be prepared for the worst.

As Dean watched Sam leave, he gave the other boy a reassuring smile. Only letting his features fall into a worried frown, sighing softly once Sam was out of sight.

Dean had a feeling Sam’s mother was going to be pissed as hell with him. He’d promised her after all that he wouldn’t tell Sam about hunting, and he’d broken that promise less than a day later. Never mind Dean thought it was absolutely necessary that Sam knew what the hell was going on.

It wasn’t like Dean _wanted_ to freak Sam out with all this talk of demons and shit. He wished to god Sam could keep some semblance of innocence, even though Eric had stolen a lot of that away. Still there was a big difference from knowing what human monsters were capable of and knowing that there were real monsters hiding in the dark too. He never wanted to tell the younger boy what he’d seen when he was four years old, but the possibility that demon bastard might be after Sam…

He’d do whatever it took to keep Sam safe. He knew Sam’s mother would do the same, so even if she was royally pissed off at him, as long as they came up with some ideas to keep that demon away from Sam, he didn’t care. He could only hope she didn’t decide that this was all his fault and tell him to stay away from Sam. Dean wouldn’t. Not unless Sam told him to, and even then Dean would still hang around to make sure the younger boy was safe. But he didn’t want to put Sam in that situation, making Sam choose between him and his family. Maybe because Dean knew he would lose.

Realizing he should probably sit up and make sure he looked presentable before Sam and his mom returned Dean did so. It didn’t take long, and Dean gave the younger boy another slight smile, and nodded to Keiko. Dean noticed the cokes and couldn’t help thinking that he wished he could have something a little stronger right now, but that would probably go over like a lead balloon. Instead he accepted the coke with another nod of thanks and took a drink, wondering where he should start.

* * *

"So," Keiko said, settling into the chair as Sam settled by Dean, "it appears my timeline got pushed up." She gave Dean only the mildest of glares.

"I would be pissed at you, but after what Sam told me, I agree this needs to be addressed." Looking at both the boys she said, "Dean forgive me if you know this, but Sam doesn't. The darker the demon's eyes, the lower on the ladder the thing is. Yellow means this demon is up the chain pretty high, one of the older demons. It means the thing probably has a lot of minions and a lot of power."  
  
"I'll research the name and see what I can find but unfortunately, names don't always translate across languages. I'll put out a net and try to get some information. Between Bobby and me, we should be able to come up with something. If it is a powerful demon, there's bound to be some lore about it."  
  
"Regardless of lore, my bow _can_ kill demons. I will start making more arrows for it. The sword and tanto in Japan, those can also kill demons. I will see if the family would be willing to deliver the tanto to us. If not, perhaps a new tanto can be made. It is…difficult…to make a blade that can kill demons. I know work on a new blade has been underway, but I don't know how close to completion it is. It is time consuming, delicate work with specific material needs."

"Both of you need protection against possession. The watch I gave Sam, which he gave to you," she glanced from her son to the older teen, "is engraved with such protection but watches can be removed. Jewelry can be removed. Tattoos cannot, at least, not easily. Sam, we'll go out tonight to get you protected. Dean, I would recommend the same for you. There's a very good tattoo parlor about an hour from here."

"A tattoo?" Sam said. "You mean like the one on your back?"

Keiko gave a soft laugh. "It doesn't need to be that elaborate. Let's get you protected first, then maybe we'll discuss something larger down the road. I'll come up with something to tell your father.

"For now let's discuss what this thing is gloating over and bragging about. It says that you're progressing, Sam. And it says it's going to take you away from Dean." Keiko thought back to the way the two boys had been sleeping together that morning. Did she really want to go there? Did she really want to ask?

"As for you 'progressing,' Sam, I would say it's because you're learning to fight, to strike out, and ultimately may gain a reputation for violence. Anger and violence benefits the demon, darkens the soul. You, young man, are going to start learning meditation. Get that temper of yours under control. You must learn to defend yourself well enough that if someone else strikes first, you are able to counter. I can teach you katas, giving you control, precision and calmness. Dean can teach you self-defense. The katas can be integrated into self-defense of course, but we need to push things forward quickly I fear."

"As for it…taking you away…from Dean..." She looked between the two boys, her gaze lingering on the older boy, "there are a lot of ways that can be taken."

She recalled all too clearly the way Dean clutched at Sam while he was still half asleep. Bobby had said the boy wasn't social and she could hope it was entirely platonic, but at this point suspected it wasn't.

"For now I'm going to assume you two boys have simply become very close friends very quickly." Her gaze slid from Dean to Sam. Sam started to say something and she held up her hand and shook her head.

"I don't want to know. You two are good friends who care about each other. Leave it at that. If it wants anger and violence, it's going to want you to lean to fight, so I wouldn't worry that it's going to make its move too quickly. It will want the two of you to grow even more attached to one another. It turn, Dean, that will ultimately put you high on its target list. Hurt you to get to Sam."

"The house is well protected, but I will do a fresh circuit and confirm everything is intact, all salt rings and devil's traps and I'll see if I can't add some more protective runes. Do you have any suggestions Dean? Japanese and American hunter methods differ in many ways even if the end result is the same."

* * *

Dean was a little surprised when Sam settled by him on the bed. Not that he didn’t want the younger boy next to him it just probably wasn’t a very good idea with Sam’s mother in the room giving him the evil eye. This talk was going to be bad enough with the whole demon thing and him telling Sam about hunters without his mother’s permission without adding to the woman’s suspicion that Dean was fucking her under age son. Ok, so they hadn’t fucked yet technically, but Dean fully intended to fuck Sam once the younger boy was ready.

Maybe now wasn’t the best time to be thinking about fucking Sam…

At least she didn’t seem all that pissed off at him, though Dean figured that was more for the younger boy’s benefit. Sam was freaked out enough about all this without him and his mother getting into some kind of shouting match.

It was also a plus she agreed that this was serious enough that they needed to address this whole demon thing. She could have easily passed his and Sam’s dreams off as just bad nightmares, nothing to worry about, and the fact they both dreamed of a yellow eyed demon as a coincidence. Hell, Dean himself had done that for maybe too long already. Dean had no idea what kind of hunter she was, or had been, how much she knew about demons, or if she might think her own protections were already good enough. He’d had plenty of older, more experienced, hunters blow him off and not take him seriously because they thought he didn’t know shit, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if it happened now.

But she was taking this seriously and that was a relief. Bobby had lots of resources and if he couldn’t figure out any info on this demon maybe Sam’s mother could. They needed to have some idea of what this fucker wanted, and figuring out what it had done already… besides killing Dean’s parents… was a good way to figure that out. Dean still couldn’t imagine what a demon, a high level demon, would want with Sam. What would it want with killing his parents for that matter?

It was very comforting to hear that bow could actually kill demons and wasn’t just for show. Dean didn’t even know killing a demon was possible. Exorcising it, keeping it trapped, sure, but actually killing one? That would definitely help. So would the blades that could kill demons. Long range was nice but blades were easier to conceal and carry around. Bobby would just go all geek to learn how to make a demon killing weapon.

When Sam’s mother mentioned Sam getting a tattoo to keep him from getting possessed, while he thought it was definitely a good idea he was also quite surprised. She was probably one of the only mothers who’d ever encourage her son to get a tattoo at fifteen, then again it was for practical reasons, not decoration. He decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to mention it would actually be very easy to remove a tattoo as far as a demon was concerned since a demon would have no qualms about skinning someone.

Dean glanced at Sam briefly when Keiko discussed her theories of what the demon might have meant regarding the younger boy ‘progressing’. He remembered all too well Sam getting arrested a couple days ago for attacking Eric. It was still a little hard to believe Sam had done that… so maybe Keiko was right. Those katas she mentioned might not be a bad idea then. He also agreed Sam learning to protect himself, from supernatural things not just school bullies, was a priority. Still Dean didn’t understand why Sam acting violent would please a demon…

Then Sam’s mom got to the part about Dean’s dream… and the look she gave him made Dean wonder if he should worry about her cursing him to make his dick fall off after all. Dean made it a point not to squirm or even glance at Sam. Well, looks like he’d been right about that too. There was no way she was going to accept him and Sam together. He had a feeling once this was all over Sam’s parents weren’t going to allow them to see each other. He couldn’t really blame them and maybe in the long run it _would_ be best for Sam… but it didn’t stop Dean’s heart from twisting and making him feel sick to his stomach.

Hell, maybe it wouldn’t even be an issue. Maybe she was right and the demon would come for him next. Just like Eric had tried to take him out to get to Sam, so would this demon.

When she asked if he had any suggestions, he nodded.

“I don’t know how much your husband knows about all this, but you might want to consider including him too. I don’t know if that will put him in more danger or less, but you can’t watch your back if you don’t know there’s a target painted on it.” Dean said plainly. Ultimately that was up to Sam and Keiko to decide of course and he wasn’t going to say anything more about it.

“I don’t know what you’ve already taught Sam, but if he hasn’t already he needs to learn some demon exorcisms. Having weapons to kill a demon is great and all, but he won’t be armed 24/7 and being able to expel a demon from its host might be the only option. Don’t know how good your Latin is, Sammy, so might need to brush up on that.”

“Learning how to make holy water and always keeping a vial on you is also a good idea. Won’t kill a demon but it will burn them. Also always having rosary so you can make more fairly quickly if need be is a good idea. Oh, and a demon will flinch at the name ‘Christo’, show its black eyes, force it to reveal itself.”

“Salt and iron will also hurt a demon. Bobby and I keep shotguns around with shells full of rock salt. A small hand gun with blessed iron bullets again won’t kill a demon but it will hurt it and slow it down a little. Bows and blades are great and all, but guns are easier to carry concealed, so I think Sam should learn to shoot with both.” 

* * *

Keiko sighed to herself when Dean pointed out her husband was potentially in danger and she was leaving him wide open to it if she didn't tell him. Dean _was_ right but she didn't have to like it. Once the evil in the night was revealed, there wasn't any going back. She had wanted to protect both the men in her life from that terrible knowledge but the situation suggested that just couldn't be. How she was going to convince Jim that evil things were real was a whole different issue. Sam accepted it more readily than she had expected, but then, with his dreams and all her tales, and now with Dean supporting the facts, it wasn't really a surprise she supposed.

"Sam knows several exorcisms in Japanese," she said with a nod and smiled at Sam.

"I do?" Sam said.

"Yes, in the stories where the demon is expelled? Those words in the tales are the exorcisms. Though it wouldn't hurt for you to learn one or two in Latin. Dean's right, brushing up on Latin would be good. Any books here in the States, Latin will certainly help you."

"Then I know how to make holy water too. That would be blessed or sacred water, right?"

"Yes," Keiko said. "But Dean can teach you how to make holy water. I'm not certain if you can call upon the ancestors, since your father is not Japanese," Keiko said. The fact Sam was adopted made her unsure if the ancestors would answer him. She had presented Sam to them, they had done the rituals, but it didn't mean they would work. Giving Sam backup methods to fight with certainly wouldn't hurt.

"Guns…" she shook her head. "Yes, I suppose you're right about that. All right. You can teach Sam how to shoot. We'll have to scrape together the money to get a couple shotguns and such." She turned her attention to Sam. "You wear hearing protection when shooting, and you don't shoot or clean guns by yourself until Dean or Bobby say you can. And you absolutely do not get to start carrying guns for the time being. You can carry sacred water and salt for now. Dean," she looked at the young man, "do you want to get a tattoo when I get Sam his? I would feel better knowing his protector is protected from possession."

* * *

Dean raised an eyebrow when Keiko informed him that Sam had been taught Japanese exorcisms, even if the younger boy hadn’t realized it. He wondered if they were as effective as the ones that Bobby had taught him. He figured there was no reason they wouldn’t be, as long as the exorcism got rid of demons it didn’t matter what language was used, but there was no reason Sam couldn’t learn a few of the most powerful Latin exorcisms as well just in case.

Sam’s mother was right though, a good half of Bobby’s books were written in Latin or at least parts of them were, so brushing up on Latin was smart anyway for research purposes. Bobby would probably actually be better tutoring Sam in Latin, since Dean’s was poor at best. Bobby would also probably be better teaching Sam how to make holy water, but Dean could give the younger boy the basics to start with at least.

He was glad that Sam’s mother agreed to let the younger boy learn to shoot. Not that she had much choice in the matter, Dean probably would have taught Sam anyway even if she said no. Dean felt a lot better knowing Sam would be able to properly defend himself when the time came. Any weapon that could be used should be used.

“Bobby probably won’t mind loaning you a couple shotguns and pistols to get you started, we’ve got a pretty large arsenal in the basement, and tools to make silver and iron bullets, and such.” Dean offered. Yeah he should probably ask Bobby first, but he didn’t think the older man would mind given the circumstances. “We’ve also got a panic room down there, like a supernatural bomb shelter, and we always keep it stocked up in case things get hairy.”

Dean was a bit surprised when Keiko offered to take him as well to get a tattoo, but he guessed he shouldn’t be. She was right, and as much as Dean hated hospital situations and needles in general, he couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse. Especially since demons possessing the bodies of people their targets trusted was one of the oldest tricks in the book.

“Yeah, might as well.” Dean agreed with a nod. 

* * *

"Good. That's settled then," Keiko said. She glanced at her son. "You promised your father you would get the lawn mowed today. Dean, let's get you downstairs. I don't want you up here by yourself if you fall asleep. Sam can mow the lawn, get a shower, and then it'll be about time for dinner.

"He'll need his ankle-brace," Sam said, pushing himself up from the bed and retrieving it from by the computer.

"I'll get Jim," Keiko said. "Dean, please, don't argue. You can walk yourself around the house all you want, but there's no sense overdoing by taking the stairs alone. It'll just wear you out and add strain to your healing body. I know you _can_ go down the stairs by yourself, but I would rather you didn't." Keiko got to her feet. "Jim will meet you at the stairs."

Once his mom left, Sam pulled back the blankets and slid the brace on Dean's ankle. He tightened it until Dean told him it was enough. "I'll make sure to get you a bucket of hot water with Epsom salts in it tonight so you can soak this." Sam ran his hand through his unruly hair. "I guess Mom's got it figured out that me and you are together. That's kind of a relief. And that she's sort of cool with it in the don't ask, don't tell kind of way." He gave a lop-sided smile to the look Dean gave him. "Trust me, if she wasn't semi-cool with it, you would have gotten the glare that can melt steel and she wouldn't have minced words. As it stands, she's doesn't want to catch us at it, and she'll look the other way. Could be she's still in the undecided phase too." Sam shrugged. "Don't worry about it." Running his hand up Dean's jean-clad leg, he added, "Even if they said I couldn't see you, it wouldn't stop me."

He heard his father climbing the stairs and stole a quick kiss before helping Dean to his feet. 

* * *

Dean sighed softly when Sam’s mother mentioned the reason why she wanted him downstairs and he regretted even more the nightmares they’d seen him have. He didn’t need anyone treating him with kid’s gloves, or like he was incompetent. Yeah, the nightmares sucked, but he’d had them all his life, he knew how to deal with them.

He said nothing however nor did he argue. More because he didn’t really want to risk pissing Sam’s mom off any more than she probably already was. Dean really wished he shared Sam’s ‘optimism’ regarding his mother knowing about them. That she was ‘cool’ with it. After all, how could Sam possibly know what his mother’s reaction would be given Sam had never even been with anyone before him? Maybe she just didn’t want to upset Sam right now, given everything else that was happening that was a hell of a lot more important than their sex life. Or maybe she just wanted to wait till Sam was outside and couldn’t hear while she ripped him a new asshole.

Though when Sam said something Dean honestly didn’t think the younger boy would say, that he would still see him even if his parents said he couldn’t, Dean couldn’t help but smile. Even if Sam might change his mind if that possibility became a reality it made him happy now.

But really, they did have a hell of a lot more pressing problems right now than their not so secret sex life. So as much as he would have liked to pull Sam back to him for a quick but deeper kiss, he didn’t and instead allowed Sam to help him to his feet without protest.

Going down the stairs with Sam and his father’s help was a lot easier than going up the stairs, but Dean probably would have never admitted that except under torture. 

* * *

Sam and his dad got Dean settled back in the den and Sam brought in "Escape from New York" and slid it into the VCR and handed Dean the remotes. "Or you can read," Sam suggested, laying a couple books by Dean. "Dad thought you might like Kurt Vonnegut or Ray Bradbury. He loves these books. Bradbury is cool but Vonnegut never did anything for me. Mom said she's going to bring you in a snack in a few minutes since you didn't eat much breakfast. I better get mowing so I'm done before dinner."

After planting a kiss on Dean's lips, he hurried out to the garage. He got the mower going and started working on getting the yard done as fast as he could.

*

Keiko brought Dean in some water and potato chips, and an apple shortly after Sam started mowing the lawn. "Thought you might be hungry," she said setting the items down on the bed tray. "I've printed off three different tattoo designs. Any of these will prevent possession." She laid the sheets down on the bed. The first tattoo was dragon with Japanese writing surrounding it, the second was a pentagram inside a sun, and the last was cross with words in Latin around it. "Think about which you'd like to have."

She studied Dean a moment, wanting to ask if her suspicion was correct, if her son and Dean were in fact involved. No, Dean was already unhappy about being with them and pretty uncomfortable around them…maybe because he hadn't wanted them to find out about him and Sam…if there was a him and Sam. At any rate, there was no sense making the young man any more uncomfortable by asking him because knowing the answer wouldn't change a thing unless Keiko wanted to tell Dean to stay away from Sam. She was undecided about Dean in that regard, undecided about how she felt if it were true. And it was driving her crazy not knowing and wondering. She had turned to leave but paused at the door. She had to ask. She simply had to. "You and my son…together," she finally said. "…Yes or no?" 

* * *

Dean gave the younger boy a nod of thanks when Sam brought him the movie and handed him the remotes. However when Sam went on to mention the books, Dean eyed them with a slightly raised eyebrow. He’d never been much of a book fan. Beyond the occasional car magazine and stupid school books he was forced to read because Bobby would have a cow if he flunked, Dean kind of avoided it like the plague.

Still he gave the other boy a muttered thanks, because he appreciated Sam’s efforts to keep him entertained. Hopefully the younger boy would be done with his chores before the movie was over. Dean could think of all kinds of things Sam could do to entertain him…

When Sam mentioned his mother bringing him a ‘snack’ however, Dean barely managed to contain a groan. Just great. Like he needed another reminder of just why they should have been a hell of a lot more careful than they had been. A snack… right… is that what they were calling it these days? Wasn’t it once called the Spanish Inquisition?

Dean snorted a little in spite of himself. Maybe Sam’s inner geek was rubbing off on him after all. He even managed a genuine smile for the younger boy thanks to the brief kiss Sam gave him before his boyfriend rushed out of the room to do his parents bidding.

The movie was actually a welcome distraction from the thoughts buzzing around in his brain like a swarm of wasps. How Sam was somehow connected to the demon that had killed his parents. It was still hard to wrap his mind around it all. He could only imagine what it must be doing inside Sam’s geek boy brain, the boy already thought too much as it was.

He hoped Bobby would call tonight. He had so much to tell him. Dean would just feel better hearing from the older hunter. Bobby always knew what to do.

It wasn’t long at all before Sam’s mother came into the room, distracting him from his attempts at distraction. She actually brought him food. Huh. So maybe it was just a snack?

“Thanks…” Dean said, pushing himself up to sit a little straighter so he could eat without getting crumbs everywhere. He hated lying on crumbs. He was surprised but impressed when she handed him the print outs of the tattoo designs. Dean wondered which one Sam would pick. Probably the dragon… his family seemed to have a thing for dragons.

He was glad he was still looking at the designs when she finally popped her question. It made it easier to hide the initial panic in his eyes that would have given away the truth whether he wanted to or not.

What if he said yes? What would she do? Would she tell him to stay the fuck away from her son? Any sane person would. Sam had said it wouldn’t matter, that he would still be with him, but…

Dean slowly looked up. He had practiced lying his whole life, he was a fucking master by now, especially when it was so important. He wasn’t going to let them try to take Sam away from him. He wasn’t going to lose another person he… loved… Not when all it took was a simple answer.

“We’re just friends.” Dean replied, putting just enough offense into his answer that would imply she’d insulted his ‘masculinity’ with just that question. 

* * *

Keiko stared at him a moment and gave a nod but offered no apology for insulting his manhood. She didn't know if she believed him, but she accepted the answer. She didn't give either a pleased look or unhappy look. She didn't want him to think she found one answer better than another. She asked, he answered, and she would leave it be unless something led her to suspect his answer was a lie.

"Let me know if you need more water or anything. Dinner is in two hours, but if you want another small bowl of potato chips, just let me know. Or if you need another movie or anything else, don't be afraid to ask. I should be within earshot." She gave him a small smile then. "And thank you for being willing to talk with Jim about cars. This is the first time in ages he's actually cleaning up the garage." She gave a small chuckle. "Not that I think I'll ever get to actually park my car in the garage but it will be nice not to trip over things out there for a change." Her smile wavered. "Though I suppose now might be a good time to take him out a beer and have 'the talk' with him."

Giving Dean a final smile, she pulled aside the sheet that was the 'door' to the den and headed into the kitchen to retrieve that beer for her husband, and one for herself.

* * *

Sam’s mom had a really good poker face, Dean would give her that. He honestly couldn’t tell if she believed him or not. He couldn’t even tell if she was happy with his answer, relieved, or disappointed. Though Dean couldn’t imagine a reality where she’d be disappointed that he had confirmed that he wasn’t fucking her teenage underage son. Even if it was a lie. Maybe that meant she believed him then, since she wasn’t tearing him a new asshole or worse.

He was glad when she dropped the subject but Dean didn’t return her smile in the slightest. Instead he waited until she’d left the room and then threw the covers aside. He was tired of laying in bed.

Leaving the snacks and drink Sam’s mother had brought him untouched he swung his legs over the side of the pull out bed. He found his boots and managed to get them on his feet with little incident but he didn’t bother tying them. He didn’t want to be bent in half for that long, and he wasn’t going far anyway.

Carefully he pushed himself to his feet, wincing only a little. He was still a bit sore from the trip down the stairs, despite the help he’d received, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d fought off psychotic ghosts and monsters with broken bones, concussions, and his blood gushing everywhere, he could certainly handle a short walk outside. Dean couldn’t deny that he was kind of looking forward to that soak Sam had mentioned for his ankle lather though.

Dean left the TV room with the movie still playing in the background, checked the hallway to make sure no one was paying any attention, then slipped out the front door silently. It didn’t take long for him to find Sam in the yard, it wasn’t that big after all, fiddling with the lawn mower. He headed for the younger boy, forcing himself not to limp too much or hold his side in discomfort. It was time he stopped acting like a pussy.

“Sam.” He called to the younger boy once he was close enough that the younger boy would be able to hear him without shouting.

“Your mom just asked me if we were fucking.” Dean continued before Sam could give him an earful. Of course she hadn’t been that direct, but well, Dean was. “I told her no. Thought you should know in case she interrogated you next.” 

* * *

Sam had stopped the mower to bag the grass, and was just hooking the bag back on when he heard his name. He couldn't believe Dean was up walking. He should be resting! His boyfriend was one stubborn ass, plain and simple, Sam decided. Not that he hadn't already figured that out, but this just reinforced it.

He couldn't believe his mom asked Dean that. And he really wished his mom would have asked him instead of asking Dean. What did she expect Dean to say? They weren't fucking…yet, but that was on the agenda as soon as Dean was well enough. Of course Dean was going to tell his mom 'no.' He already wasn't entirely—okay wasn't happy _at all_ with staying with them. He barely knew his parents. Sam's mom was direct though and maybe she wanted to hear the 'no' just to put her mind at ease. He wondered just how much his mom had 'interrogated' Dean.

"Sorry," Sam said and crossed the distance between them. "I doubt she'll ask me, at least, not for awhile. You know a couple weeks or month, unless we give her reason to question your answer. You could have told her that we're boyfriends. They're going to find out eventually. You want me to get you a lawn chair so you can sit outside awhile?" Sam grinned at Dean. "I'm kinda hot. I could take my shirt off while I finish mowing." 

* * *

When Sam turned to look at him the bitch face the younger boy was wearing wasn’t entirely unexpected, so Dean mentally shrugged it off. He wasn’t an invalid, and he’d go wherever he damn well pleased. Plain and simple. Though he supposed it was nice that Sam cared enough about him to give him hell when he thought Dean was pushing himself too hard.

The other boy’s expression changed when he heard Dean’s news however, eventually settling on apology. When Sam apologized for his mother Dean shrugged again, this time for real. It wasn’t like it was all that unexpected.

Dean frowned a little when Sam said he wished Dean had told her the truth about them being boyfriends. Yeah, that would have gone over about as well as a lead balloon.

“They don’t have to find out, Sam. As long as you don’t tell them how will they know?” Dean asked, but sighing with resignation. He thought he’d convinced Sam just what a bad idea it was for his parents to find out about them, but apparently he hadn’t. Dean knew he should probably just get used to the idea of Sam’s parents finding out, blowing a gasket, and either having him arrested or at the very least forbidding them to see each other. That didn’t mean he had to like the idea.

When Sam offered him a chair outside, after a moment of thought Dean nodded. He felt less cooped up out here, and he could keep an eye on Sam. He didn’t know if Sam’s mother had set up any protections outside the house and it put his mind at ease being able to watch the younger boy’s back at least.

Sam’s offer to take off his shirt had a smile of amusement tugging at Dean’s lips before he could help himself. Then Dean remembered just why he’d come out here in the first place and the smile faded almost instantly. As much as he would enjoy the show it probably wasn’t a good idea.

“Probably not a good idea, in case your mom decides to check on us or something.” Dean replied. No he wasn’t pouting, damn it. 

* * *

Sam got a chair for Dean and put it in the shade. "Doesn't matter if my shirt is on or off if you're ogling me. That'll tell her for sure," Sam said with a smirk. "I'll get you some water."

Hurrying inside, Sam slipped into Dean's 'room' and turned off the TV, the grabbed the water he saw sitting there. It sure felt good inside the house. After splashing some cold water on his face and getting a drink for himself, he headed back outside and gave Dean the glass. With a sigh, he returned to his task of mowing the yard. He occasionally glanced over at Dean and smiled, or made a face, did some silly dance steps, skipped, ran, pushed the mower with his belly, anything to entertain Dean and himself while he mowed. He bagged the grass again, groaning. Pulling off his shirt, he wiped his face and walked over to Dean.

"Ugh. One more bagful to go and I should be done." He stole a few gulps of water from Dean's glass and, with a heavy sigh, trudged back out to the mower. It wouldn't have been so bad if the grass wasn't so long, but it hadn't been mowed in awhile.

He kept up the occasional entertainment factor for Dean while he hurried through the last bit of mowing. He gave a very happy sigh when he looked over the neatly mowed yard. If he mowed, his mom or dad trimmed, and since he despised trimming, he was only too happy to do the mowing. He bagged the last bit of grass and carried the bags out to the curb. They wouldn't get picked up until Monday, but he didn't care. After returning the mower to the shed, he grabbed a chair and joined Dean in the shade.

"That was exciting, wasn't it?" Sam said with a tired chuckle as he collapsed into the chair. He just wanted to sit and cool off for a few before he went in to shower.

* * *

“Who say’s I’m going to ogle you?” Dean countered, but Sam did have a point. It seemed where the younger boy was concerned he couldn’t stop ogling him. The older boy sighed as he sat down in the chair Sam had provided him with. He better start behave a hell of a lot more discretely if he didn’t want to get himself thrown in jail for statutory rape. He knew how to be discrete damn it… even though Bobby had apparently seen through all his previous attempts at it.

Dean sighed heavily. Why did things always have to be so damned difficult? Why couldn’t he have one thing… this… Sam… without everything trying to take it away from him? Eric, Sam’s parents, a fucking demon…

He was going to drive himself fucking crazy thinking about it all. Thankfully Sam provided him with some much needed distraction, first returning with his drink and then deciding to put on a ‘show’ for him while he went back to his chore. Dean couldn’t help but smile and then laugh at the younger boy’s antics which quickly lightened his dark mood.

Dean couldn’t deny he was ogling Sam a bit when the younger boy went on to take off his shirt anyway, and hell, no one else was around so he let himself ogle. Finally Sam was finished and came to sit beside him, and Dean grinned at his boyfriend’s comment.

“If I wasn’t worried about being thrown in jail I’d so jump you right now.” Dean admitted as he took in the sight of the younger boy’s flushed features. Actually Sam looked a lot like he did after Dean gave him a mind melting blowjob. A little out of breath, skin flushed, his hair slightly damp at the back of his neck and forehead sticking to his skin, and Dean just wanted to run his fingers through it and run his tongue along the younger boy’s sweat dampened skin.

Dean sighed again as he adjusted himself in his jeans. No way Sam didn’t notice that. 

* * *

Sam laughed. "My parents would not have you arrested." He grinned seeing the way Dean shifted, noticing the slight bulge growing in Dean's groin. "Though I suppose if you jumped me, that might cause all sorts of awkwardness if we got caught."

They were out of view of the street and his parents would have to come out into the back yard a bit to see them. With an evil grin, Sam stood up and, after carefully moving Dean's sprained ankle out a bit so weight wouldn't be put on it, he straddled Dean's legs. "Gotcha. You're all mine now," Sam whispered. Leaning in, he kissed Dean, opening his mouth to let Dean's tongue slide in.

He moaned softly as he felt Dean's hands on his sweaty bare skin and tangled his tongue with his boyfriend's. He wriggled his ass as he felt the bulge in Dean's groin grow, and felt his own cock begin to sprout wood. Sam let himself get lost in the kiss, though he did keep one ear open for his parents. They would likely call out, not just try to hunt him down, so he wasn't worried they'd sneak up on him and Dean.

"I can't wait for Monday, when we're at your place," Sam murmured when they had to break a moment to catch their breath. "I wanna get naked with you."

* * *

Dean frowned a little at the way Sam simply laughed off his concerns. How could Sam possibly know his parents wouldn’t try to have him arrested? He was nineteen. Sam was fifteen. No, maybe Sam was right. They wouldn’t try to have him arrested. Sam’s mom would just cut off his balls.

The older teen winced a little at that mental image. Especially since he knew without a doubt Sam's mother was capable of it, and Dean couldn’t exactly run away.

It was almost enough to take care of his little problem. At least it would have been if Sam didn't chose that moment to sit in his lap of all things. The chair creaked dangerously under their combined weight and Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. His upper brain urging him to protest while his lower brain was telling him to just shut up and go with it.

Before Dean could say anything Sam was kissing him and all thoughts of protesting went flying out the window. His hands came up to Sam’s waist to steady the younger boy, his fingers splayed wide along the sweat dampened skin, and Dean groaned low into his lover’s mouth. The younger boy’s wiggling in his lap making his dick practically jump in the confines of his jeans and harden almost painfully.

"Fuck, Sammy…" Dean panted, Sam’s whispered words turning him on something fierce. Monday seemed like an eternity away at this point. His hands slid lower to cup the younger boy’s ass, squeezing and pulling Sam even closer.

"I wish we didn’t have to wait."

* * *

"Me too, but there's no place we can go without risking Mom or Dad finding us." Sam ran his fingers through Dean's hair. He pressed back against the hands on his ass, enjoying the feel and let Dean pull him close. "Since I'm done mowing, they know I'll be in to get a shower soon and will wonder where I am, probably in a half hour, maybe sooner." Sam put a light kiss on his lips. "Dinner's not too far off, then off we go to get our tattoos." He paused and shook his head a little. He was getting a tattoo. How strange was that? Then he remembered why he was getting a tattoo and that monsters were real and a demon named Azazel wanted him for some reason. Being in Dean's arms was suddenly a whole lot more comforting than sexual. He was silent, drinking up Dean's presence, feeling so safe there, and happy in a way he never had before.

"After Mom and Dad go to bed…maybe then we could make out some," Sam suggested quietly, gripping Dean's shirt in one hand almost like a lifeline. "You make me feel safe. It's going to be lonely tomorrow evening when you go back home," he said softly.

"Guess I better get up before this chair collapses or something, huh?" Sam said, making no move to do that. 

* * *

Dean groaned softly as Sam listed off all the reasons why they had to wait whether they liked it or not. He almost complained about Sam working him up in the first place. Damned blue balls. But it was kind of hard to be upset with Sam still sitting in his lap and feeling really good there. Not to mention when the younger boy offered to make out with him when his parents went to bed.

"Sounds like a plan." Dean replied eagerly, though Sam’s next words had him sighing softly. Yeah, he would miss this too. As uncomfortable as Dean felt staying here and as much as he wanted to return home, he couldn’t deny he would miss seeing Sam so much. It was more than just wanting to be here to protect the younger boy and make sure nothing happened to Sam. Sure they would get to see each other every day at school and a few hours after school as well, but it wasn’t the same as being able to hold Sam in his arms at night, and wake up with him in the morning…

Christ, he should probably shut off that line of thinking before he started growing girly parts.

"Yeah." Dean agreed, though he wasn’t sure if he was agreeing to Sam getting up or that he would be lonely too. Well, either way he hadn’t made any move to release the younger boy and Sam made no move to get off him either, which was just fine with Dean.

"You know, I could always kidnap you. Hide you in my basement and have my wicked way with you any time I wanted." Dean joked playfully, grinning up at Sam before leaning in to capture his lips once more.

* * *

Dean teasing words made Sam grin, and the kiss made him grin even more. "Mmm, that sounds like fun. But somehow I don't think it would take them long to find me there." He suddenly recalled the room in the basement that was like a cell with all those symbols and pentagrams and stuff in it. He wanted to ask about it, but didn't want to admit he'd been skulking around Bobby and Dean's place, so kept his mouth shut. It probably had something to do with demons and monsters, and he didn't want to think about that at the moment. All he wanted to think about was feeling Dean's lips on his again, feeling Dean's hands squeezing his ass, and basking in the body heat of his boyfriend, even though he was still hot and sweaty from mowing.

When he shifted a little, he heard the chair creak again and grumbled. "I think I better get up before this chair really does collapse." He kissed Dean a final lingering kiss then reluctantly got to his feet. "I guess I should go get my shower and get the table set. Do you want to sit out here for awhile, or do you want to come in?" He couldn't help brushing his fingers down the side of Dean's face and running them across Dean's lips. Yeah, he'd probably be jacking off in the shower after this.

* * *

Dean chuckled. No, it probably wouldn’t take them long to find Sam there, but they could certainly have a lot of fun in the mean time. It was a nice fantasy anyway.

The loud dangerous creak the chair beneath him made when Sam shifted again pretty much killed the mood unfortunately. Sam was right. The last thing they needed was for the chair to collapse beneath him and for him to get impaled or rip his stitches again or something. That didn’t mean Dean wasn’t disappointed when Sam finally climbed off of him all the same.

He smiled however at the light touch Sam gave to his face, turning to brush his lips gently over the younger boy’s fingers.

“I’ll come in.” Dean decided. He knew either way Sam was probably going to insist on someone helping him back indoors. He’d rather it be Sam now than the younger boy sending out his father later on to fetch him.

Dean was determined to at least get up on his own however, and he did so. Pushing himself up from the chair, his expression only flickering with mild discomfort when he did so. Considering how much he’d pushed himself today he was probably lucky he wasn’t hurting more.

He let Sam take his arm however without complaint to give him a little support while they walked inside together.

“Your mom showed me some tattoo designs earlier. Have you seen them yet?” Dean asked. He was curious which one Sam would like. Probably the one with the dragon. His family seemed big on dragons. Dean was leaning towards what he deemed was the least girly one. The pentagram inside the sun. 

* * *

Sam shook his head. "No, but I figure she'll probably make a 'suggestion' for me. It's gonna be weird. I mean, I always kinda wanted a tattoo 'cause you should see the one on Mom's back. It's beautiful. But I never figured I'd get a tattoo anytime soon. Or if I did, it would be when we were in Japan, so the artist that the family goes to could do it." Sam chuckled. "It'll be weird in gym class when we're getting out showers. Geek-a-zoid with a tattoo. They're gonna say you are such a bad influence on me. Like I'm in a gang or something." He laughed again.

He opened the door and let Dean get himself through the doorway, figuring he'd just be in the way. "I wonder if it's going to hurt. Mom said it does, but not real bad. You're the lucky one. You're already on pain pills. You probably won't even notice it. I bet mom will make Dad get one too." He was just a little gleeful at that idea and he wasn't sure why. Apparently he had been sort of wild in his youth after all.

Helping Dean back into the den, he saw the tattoos his mom had printed out. After getting Dean settled he looked at them. He set aside the cross and looked between the two remaining, the dragon and the sun. "These are both kinda cool. Mom's probably going to say the dragon." He held it up to his chest and looked down at it, then tried the sun and pentagram. "Yeah, I like the dragon. Dad will probably go for the dragon too." Sam frowned a little at that. That would be kinda weird, having a tattoo that matched his dad's.

After turning on the TV for Dean, he gave him a quick kiss. "Off to get my shower. Be back in a few. You need anything before I go?"

* * *

Dean made a face when Sam mentioned he should see his mother’s tattoo. Not that Mrs. Colt wasn’t kind of hot, he supposed, for an older chick. But the idea of seeing his lover’s mother naked, even partially, was just weird. Even for him.

Then Sam went on to talk about how he wished he could get his tattoo in Japan, some kind of family tradition apparently. Just another example of how demons fucked everything up.

He snorted softly at the younger boy’s mutterings about him being a bad influence. Well, not that Dean could deny that. Though in this case technically Sam and his mother were the bad influence. Despite his ‘bad boy’ reputation Dean had never really thought about getting a tattoo before now. But with demons about it was a worthwhile precaution, even if he wasn’t looking forward to more pain.

Sam helped him back to his ‘bed’ but thankfully didn’t fuss over him. He watched at the younger boy checked out the printouts that Sam’s mother had given him earlier and wasn’t the least bit surprised when Sam picked the dragon one.

“Figured.” Dean commented on the younger boy’s choice before he began hunting for the remote, he knew he left it on the bed somewhere. Sam beat him to it, flicking on the television, and Dean took the remote from him afterward.

“I’m good, Sam. Go de-funk yourself.” The older boy replied, his lips quirking a little in response to the brief kiss. Even though he really should be more worried about Sam’s parents seeing them, and the threat of castration. Oh what the hell. He gave the younger boy’s ass a playful swat when Sam turned around because, well, it was a nice ass. 

* * *

"You like me hot and sweaty and you know it," Sam said quietly so his parents wouldn't here, then gave a yelp when he felt Dean smack his butt. He whirled on Dean a shook his finger at him. "You just wait until you're all healed up. I will so get my revenge."

Sam paused at the door and gave Dean as smile, then hurried up to his room to get some clean clothes. He turned on the radio in the shower and sang loudly along with it as he 'de-funked' himself. When he got out of the shower and dried off, he looked at his body in the mirror, studying it. Dean liked him. Liked his body. It wasn't a bad body. He was in decent shape and he flexed his muscles a few times checking them out. He looked at his healing bruises and gave a sigh. His life had been pretty good until he got put in that school. Things went to hell…well, after dickhead tried to rape him. But he'd had dreams of the yellow eyed demon all his life. He wondered if him getting put into the school was part of the demon's plan. It had certainly sent him spiraling down a fucked up path. Getting the snot kicked out of him, friends with the school's 'bad boy', enemy to Eric and his friends, learning demons were real, learning how to fight, getting _arrested_ , and discovering he liked guys, or at least, Dean. It was all a little overwhelming when he thought about it, so he decided not to. What could he do about it anyhow?

He pulled on his clothes, turned off the radio and ran down the stairs. He poked his head in Dean's room. "Gonna set the table and see if Mom or Dad need anything, then I'll be back.

Sam set the table for his parents, then set up the trays for him and Dean. He didn't figure Dean would want to eat with his parents and he had a gut feeling it would be best if he let his parents eat dinner together and he ate with Dean. After everything was done he looked for his parents and found them in the garage.

"Hey," he called out and knocked on the door. His parents were talking and his father had a look on his face that hinted at disbelief. His mom must have told him and he was still trying to wrap his brain around the whole idea. Both his parents looked at him. His mother gave him a strained smile.

"Hi, Sam. You father and I were just discussing demons and monsters and tattoos, and I'm not certain he isn't going to have an aneurysm."

"Me neither," Jim said, shaking his head. "So what's your feeling on all this?"

Sam paused and thought for a minute, then gave a shrug. "It sucks. Demons are real, one of them is after me, might try to hurt you two, and we don't have any idea what it wants. Yeah, not what I ever figured I'd be worrying about. I'd rather be worrying about a math exam or something."

Jim gave a soft almost baffled laugh. "Yeah, kiddo, me too. Definitely, me too. Though I guess when we go visit Japan next time, we'll have a whole lot more to talk about with your grandparents and aunts and uncles."

"Table's set. Dean and I are gonna eat in the den if that's okay. Did you need anything else done before dinner?"

Keiko shook her head. "I'll call you when it's dinner time."

"I'll be in with Dean if you need me." With that he walked back into the den and flopped down next to his boyfriend. 

* * *

No, Dean couldn’t deny that he liked it when Sam was hot and sweaty, and he wasn’t even going to try. The only thing that would be better was if the younger boy was hot, sweaty, and naked. The older boy grinned at Sam’s yelp, and responded to his boyfriend’s ‘threat’ with a look that would melt butter.

There were a lot of reasons why he couldn’t wait to be healed up. He was definitely looking forward to Sam’s ‘revenge’.

Dean was still grinning when Sam left and he turned his attention to flipping through the channels on the TV. His mind wasn’t really on finding anything to watch though, rather everything that had led up to this moment. The easy grin slipped off his face rather quickly after that.

It was rather fucked up, but he supposed it could be worse. If Bobby had never picked Sam up that night on the road the younger boy would have been on his own this whole time. Getting the shit kicked out of him every day Dean had little doubt Sam would have ended up back with Eric, in the hospital, or worse eventually. Dean never would have known… never would have cared…

That thought made his throat close up with emotion. Not to mention guilt. Because at first he hadn’t cared when he first met Sam. Sam had been beaten to hell and Dean could have done something about it but he didn’t. Not until he saw Sam after school when most of the damage had already been done.

He’d never asked Sam’s forgiveness for that. The younger boy never seemed to blame him for it, even though he had every right to. Sam had every reason not to trust him then, but he had. The lesser evil, Sam had called him.

Dean sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. His love life, such as it was, was insignificant compared to all the other shit hitting the fan right now. First he had to take care of that prick Eric once and for all. Then he and Bobby had to find and get rid of that fucking demon, yeah, like that was going to be a piece of cake. The last thing he should be worried about right now was what Sam was going to do when he no longer needed his protection anymore.

The older boy glanced at Sam when the other boy returned and sat down beside him. At least he had stopped flipping channels on some mindless bloody action movie rather than Oprah this time.

“How’s the folks?” Dean asked casually. 

* * *

"Tense," Sam said. "I don't think I've ever seen my dad look so out of his element. He talks like he's taking it pretty well, but one look in his eyes and you can tell, he's seriously freaked out. My mom is trying real hard I think to convince Dad it's real, there are really demons and werewolves and crap, but if I hadn't been reared with all the legends of the family told over and over until they were seared into my brain…and had the dreams of the yellow-eyed man…I'm not sure _I_ wouldn't think my mom had taken a dive off the deep end, too."

Sam interlaced his fingers with Dean's. "Mom said she'd call when dinner's ready. I'm going to eat in here, give them time to work out anything else they want to say, so they don't have to deal with worrying about saying something in front of me that they don't want me to hear. They don't like to fight in front of me and I don't know…I don't know what the situation is between them and I think I'd rather just stay out of it.

He picked up the tattoo drawings. "So? Which are you going with? Call me biased, but you look more like a dragon-guy. Course that whole pentagram action will add to your bad boy image. The cross…I could see that too, I guess, but only if you're religious. Are you?"

* * *

Dean nodded at Sam’s words. Yeah, he could imagine how freaked out Sam’s father must be feeling right now. He’d seen it hundreds of times after all. He’d been there when people got their first glimpse into the real world. Right after nearly getting mauled by a werewolf, eaten by a zombie, or thrown around by a pissed off ghost. The world where the monsters under the bed really could eat you. If you were lucky enough not to become an entrée the world was never quite the same again. Never really safe.  


  
He was still impressed how well Sam was taking all this. It was one thing to hear stories, and have nightmares that you thought were from scary movies. Hell, it was even one thing to learn that demons and other supernatural baddies were real. It was another to find out that they were gunning for you.

Dean gently squeezed Sam’s fingers when the younger boy took his hand, then brought his boyfriend’s hand to his lips and brushed a few kisses over his knuckles. Yeah, it was probably best to give the parental units some time to themselves. Dean was more than happy not to have to join Sam’s parents for dinner for several reasons. Considering Dean was pretty sure he wasn’t on their favorite person list right now. After all, he was a convenient person to blame for all this shit going down.

He was more than happy to change the discussion towards their upcoming tattoos. He snorted softly at Sam’s opinion that the pentagram would add to his bad boy image.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin my image now, would I?” Dean remarked, then shook his head at Sam’s question. “Nah. Bobby makes me go to church every once in a while, but its just to work on my Latin and for supplies. Holy water ain’t all for show, you know.” 

* * *

Sam wasn't surprised Dean was going for the pentagram and chuckled. "You have ruined your image. You have the Geekazoid as your boyfriend," Sam whispered, laughing softly just in case his parents had come in from the garage.

"We don't go to church. Dad's agnostic and Mom's a Japanese Buddhist. Shinbutsu shugo. It's a combo of Shinto and Buddhism. When we're in Japan we go to the temple. Or if we're in a big city that has a temple, we sometimes go. Mom sent me to Sunday School one summer, wanted me to learn about Christianity, and I've gone to a couple different churches, visiting. Read the bible too. She said she wanted to make sure I understood some of Christianity and would support me if I wanted to become Christian or Muslim or whatever, though she threatened to skin me if I went for one of the more extremist type churches. She said she would send me off to a Buddhists temple for a year if I did that." Sam grinned, remembering that little speech she'd given him, though he had no doubt she would keep her word on it either.

"Mom said you should teach me how to make holy water in the…Christian, I guess, way. Though I want to try making blessed water like in the stories and see if I can." He frowned a moment. "Is there even any way to tell if you succeeded or not _without_ using it? And can I do it if I'm not Christian? Do you go up against a lot of vampires that you need it for?" Sam asked curiously. Eastern monsters and Western monsters seemed to be different in a lot of ways. Blessed water didn't hurt the sort of vampires the stories he'd studied had, but they were pretty different from Dracula in the first place.

* * *

Dean gave the younger boy a mock glare, then grinned.

"Well, at least I got the smoking hot geekazoid." He all but purred in the younger boy's ear. But then his expression turned serious again. Whether or not Sam realized it he had brought up a rather sticky issue in regards to his 'reputation'. A reputation that had pretty much been shot to hell when Eric had sucker punched him in the gut the other day.

When they finally had to return to that god forsaken place called a school he was going to have his work cut out for him. A mere glare from him probably wasn't going to send people scurrying like it normally did. He was going to have to rebuild his reputation and fast… and there was a chance Sam might not like his reputation. Sam hadn't been at the school for very long, the younger boy probably hadn't even heard the worst rumors about him.

Dean sighed heavily. Fucked up. This whole situation was just fucked up.

Then Sam was talking about religion, and Dean listened as the younger boy went on about his background. Which wasn't much apparently, though it was probably more than Dean himself knew on the subject. Dean only really paid attention to the practical uses, holy water, exorcisms, and rosaries were tools of the trade to him, nothing more.

He couldn't help but snort softly at the mental image of Sam becoming a Jehovah's Witness or something. Now that was a scary thought.

"I don't know anything about blessed water, but I guess it's basically the same thing. Sure, you can throw a cursed object into the water and see if it sizzles. That's about the only way to tell if it works I guess without throwing it on a demon or ghost." Dean explained, then Sam mentioned vampires and sighed softly. Boy they had a lot of work to do.

"Holy water doesn't do shit for real vampires, Sam. Crucifixes, running water, sunlight, and a stake to the heart, also crap. Beheading is the best way to kill them, though Bobby says if you burn them and scatter their ashes that works too. Quicker to just behead the bastards. Dead man's blood will poison and weaken them for a short time though."

* * *

Sam grinned when Dean called him smoking hot. He didn't think he was but it was nice to hear, especially from his boyfriend. Then he sighed and Sam wondered why. He guessed religious talk must bore him, yet that didn't really seem to feel right. It was something else, he was pretty certain of it. Of course for all the shit going down, that something else could be almost anything.

"Deadman's blood?" Sam asked with a shake of his head. "So Dracula is all Hollywood. Well, the original Dracula isn't bothered by sunlight if you read the book. He's just a little weakened by it. And he could cross running water at certain times. But none of that matters if it doesn't work. Yeah, Japanese vampires are real different from Hollywood, too and rare. Burning the body is usually a pretty good sure way. Chinese vampires are really more like zombies. They take life, not blood. And hop to move. And pretty much are kind of a rotting corpse. Some say they were fallen warriors that were magically reanimated to walk home to their ancestral burial grounds. I think it just proves that what's dead ought to stay dead, y'know? No good hearted reanimation for whatever reason. Always seems to turn out bad for the re-animator and innocent bystanders."

Sam looked at Dean. "Okay, so what's the scoop on demons? How do you kill them? I mean, if I've got some yellow eyed bastard after me, how do we get rid of it permanently? I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for something with yellow eyes." 

* * *

Dean nodded at Sam’s observation that Dracula was all Hollywood. The younger boy really had no fucking idea. Real vampires were far from those pretty, pansy ass, broody, tortured souls that made teenage girls swoon by the numbers these days. If Sam actually saw a real vampire the younger boy would probably shit himself. Fucking Hollywood. Not that Dean didn’t enjoy a good monster flick from time to time but it really just made life as a hunter harder sometimes.

Then Sam started going off about the book Dracula and Dean just gave him a look. Did Sam really expect him to have read that piece of shit? No, he didn’t think so. He really did have to wonder how much of the stuff Sam was saying about Japanese and Chinese vampires were true. Well, if his mother had told him those stories, they probably were. If Sam had just read it somewhere himself, it could all be bullshit. He supposed it didn’t really matter. Since Dean had never heard of any Chinese or Japanese vampires on this side of the pond and he sure as hell wasn’t planning a trip over there.

While Sam rambled on, Dean busied himself by studying his lover’s profile and imagining all the places he could leave hickies on the younger boy where Sam’s parents might not notice. He was brought out of his brief daydreaming when Sam asked him about demons. How to kill one. Dean frowned a little.

“I don’t know. I know how to trap one, how to hurt it with iron or holy water, and exorcise the bastards to hell, but never heard how to kill one.” Dean admitted a little reluctantly. He sure as hell wasn’t happy by his own answer because he wanted that mother fucker dead for more than one reason. To make sure Sam was safe, sure, but Dean had wanted the bastard dead even before that, for killing his parents. It was always a moot point before, since he and Bobby didn’t even know where to find the damned thing, but now that they finally had a lead.

“Maybe Bobby will have an idea. If anyone can figure it out, he can. He’s like Yoda.” 

* * *

Sam was disappointed Dean didn't know how to kill a demon. Sending it back to Hell was only good if the son of a bitch would actually stay in Hell and couldn't get back out. But Dean knew how to trap it so maybe they could trap it in something like a genie was trapped in a lamp. They could trap it in something and then bury it somewhere no one would find it. His mind flashed to that old church Eric had taken him to with the intent of raping him. There was a sort of twisted justice in that, and holy ground was probably a good place to bury a trapped demon. He doubted another demon could get on holy ground to dig it out.

He looked at Dean when Dean compared Bobby to Yoda.

"Short, green and has a funny way of talking?" Sam asked. He pitched his voice high, mimicking that of the Star Wars Jedi Master. "Smart you think you are? Idgit, your name should be. Hmm. Yes, young Winchester."

He broke into laughter, imagining Bobby's face in the wizened puppet's features. "Bobby-Yoda. Yes, that's perfect. Of course, you know you're my Yoda. Dean-Yoda, nooo…Yoda Dean. Yeah, that sound good." He grinned at Dean, waiting for a pillow up side the head. 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but join in with the younger boy’s laughter when Sam did his impression of “Bobby-Yoda”. The older boy had a feeling he was going to regret making that comparison. Especially if Sam ever mentioned it in front of Bobby, Dean knew he’d just lose it big time. Probably get them both whacked upside the head too by the older hunter.

However when Sam went on to call _him_ Yoda, Dean made a face.

“So now you’re calling _me_ a short, wrinkly, green, troll?” Dean said, pretending to be highly offended though his smirk probably ruined the effect. The way Sam was grinning back at him, the younger boy really was just asking for it.

So Dean all but tackled the younger boy back against the bed and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. 

* * *

"If the skin fits… _troll._ " Sam teased. He wondered suddenly if trolls were real and what they looked like. Trolls liked goats, if the fairy tale of the Three Billy Goats Gruff had any truth to it, but then, the troll would probably eat anything that came along.

He did not anticipate Dean tackling him and let out with a girly scream as Dean tickled him and began laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He tried to tickle Dean back but Dean was too fast in blocking him, and then there was the whole bandages over the side.

"Not fair!" he screeched among giggles and barks of laughter. "You have armor! No fair!" he yelled breathlessly. He was gasping for air when Dean finally let up on him. He lay there, panting. "You just wait…until you're healthy…I'll get you…back," Sam promised.

"Sam?" Keiko called from the other room. "Everything okay?"

"No! Dean turned into monster who was trying to tickle me to death."

There was a brief silence then Keiko called back in, "Good thing he doesn't know how ticklish you are behind your knees."

"Mommmm!" Sam complained. He couldn't believe his mother just gave away his most ticklish spot to Dean. 

* * *

Dean was probably way more pleased with himself than he should be at the way Sam screamed like a girl when he pounced on him. He couldn’t help but laugh loudly in response even though Sam’s attempts at retribution weren’t really working. Dean dodging his attempts rather easily. The younger boy couldn’t even really tickle him back given how his bandages were situated around his middle giving Dean a clear advantage. Was he about to go easy on Sam because of that? Nope, not in the least. Making Sam giggle uncontrollably was just too damned fun.

The older boy merely grinned evilly at Sam’s promises to get him back once he was healthy. He almost reminded the younger boy that once he _was_ healthy tickling was going to be the last thing on both their agendas. Dean was going to make sure of that.

He froze momentarily however when he heard Sam’s mother’s voice drift in from the other room. He’d been so distracted by his ‘attack’ on Sam he hadn’t even heard anyone else come into the house. What was she going to think of this if she decided to walk in on them? Him braced over her son’s body, his legs pinning the squirming teen to the bed, and Sam’s shirt raked up so that Dean could get to his sensitive sides, it was a… compromising… position to say the least.

Dean couldn’t help but be slightly amused at Sam’s reply to his mother however, even as he was contemplating whether or not he should be letting the younger boy up now. Tickle monster huh? When the younger boy’s mother replied with some very useful intel letting Sam up was suddenly the last thing on his mind. He grinned down at the younger boy almost evilly.

“Oh really?” Dean replied as he managed to catch both of Sam’s hands in his own, pin them above the boy’s head in one hand, while his other snaked down aiming for behind the younger boy’s knee. Of course he didn’t fail to notice how this now put them in an even more compromising position. His chest pressing down on Sam’s while he was braced between his lover’s legs, Sam’s bucking and squirming while he laughed and tried to get away starting to create a rather delicious friction between them. 

* * *

"No! No! No!" Sam's complaints were lost in breathless peals of laughter as he struggled to get free or at the very least, prevent Dean from reaching the back of his knees. At this point Dean barely had to even touch the back of his knees for him to react, he was already so over-stimulated.

Through all his wriggling and squirming he suddenly realized how Dean was on top of him and how he was rubbing Dean right across the groin. He was laughing too hard for his own body to react but he could feel that wasn't the case with his boyfriend.

Since Dean had him firmly held, between pinning his wrists and his legs and laying on top of him, maybe he could gain the upper hand with a bit more enthusiasm, he decided. He struggled for a minute while Dean was still tickling the hell out of him, before he managed to get his legs half wrapped around Dean's, effectively protecting the back of his knees in the process.

He rubbed very intentionally across Dean's groin, giggling. "I'll be evil," he warned breathlessly.

* * *

Sam’s squirming beneath him was really starting to get… distracting. Dean knew he should probably stop now. To say things were getting out of hand was an understatement. Sam’s face was flushed red and the younger boy was practically breathless with laughter, but instead of inspiring mercy within him Dean couldn’t help but compare how Sam looked now to when the boy looked when he was in the throes of passion. That, combined with how the younger boy rubbed up against him, was going to make things very uncomfortable very soon if he didn’t stop now. Not to mention how this must look far from innocent and Sam’s parents could come in and see them at any time.

So why wasn’t he stopping?

Then suddenly Sam took matters into his own hands, so to speak, and wrapped his legs tightly around him. Effectively making it almost impossible for Dean to continue his tickling, but it was the way Sam purposefully thrust up against him that really caught the older boy off guard. Dean barely managed to bite his lip hard to keep from groaning aloud.

Evil. Sam was definitely that, and Dean could probably only blame himself for it. He was creating a monster.

Instead of answering or releasing the boy, however, Dean’s hand slid from Sam’s knee up the length of his thigh. His own hips rocking down as he gripped Sam’s ass, holding him in place as he thrust between the younger boy’s legs.

He could be evil too.

* * *

Sam was feeling a little smug, what with the look of surprise that crossed Dean's face. There was no doubt his rubbing against Dean had definitely garnered the desired results. Maybe a little too well as suddenly Dean thrust against him and squeezed his ass. Sam's head fell back and he bit his lower lip so hard, he wouldn't be surprised if it drew blood.

"Ungh," whispered passed his lips. His mom was in the other room! They couldn't do this. No way. Just because his mom had been in the other room when Sam had jacked Dean off…but this was different. His mom could come in at any time. Or his dad. He couldn't be certain how long they had.

"Uncle, uncle," Sam breathed. "Mom or Dad…we'll get caught."

* * *

Oh yeah… the way the younger boy's eyes practically rolled back into his head and the sound Sam barely contained when Dean had moved against him. Hot. Definitely hot. Dean couldn't resist squeezing again, rubbing against the younger boy even more firmly, wanting to pull more of those barely restrained moans from Sam.

Of course Sam had to be the voice of reason. Dean's dick kind of hated him right now for it, but the younger boy was right. He was getting carried away. Again. How many times had he told himself he had to knock it off, they couldn't risk getting caught, then he'd get his hands on Sam again and…

Yeah… ok, so he had a problem. At least he admitted it.

"Alright. Rain check." Dean finally muttered, leaning in to give his lover a quick heated kiss before he forced himself to release the younger boy and roll off of Sam. Barely biting back a moan of frustration as he laid there and told his dick to behave itself.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Sam eagerly accepted the kiss and was sort of disappointed when it ended. He sat up, certain he was flushed from all his laughing and then there towards the end… Leaning in close to Dean he whispered, "Maybe it can rain tonight."

Giving Dean a flirty promising look, his gaze drifted to Dean's lips and he debated about leaning in and kissing Dean again. Of course, he'd just told Dean they shouldn't, that his mom or dad could walk in without warning. If he started kissing Dean, he figured they'd pick right back up where they were a minute ago. He wanted to. He really wanted to. Yes, tonight, they definitely needed to get together, because he just didn't want to wait any longer. He liked touching Dean and being touched by Dean.

"Boys, dinner's ready," Keiko said as she swished aside the curtain. She saw Sam sitting back quickly from Dean, looking a little guiltily at her. His face was still quite red. She glanced at Dean who met her gaze coolly as he pulled his blanket over his lap.

"Sam, go wash up, then set the table."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam said and hurried out of the room.

Keiko turned back to Dean. "I'd like you to join us tonight for dinner. I need some backup regarding the situation with Sam. You've been a hunter for awhile and I'm certain you know plenty of stories that Mr. Singer has told you. I think it would help Jim wrap his brain around the fact monsters are real if you confirmed it and answered some of his questions. Having an outside viewpoint and all. Doesn't hurt that he likes you. He was a rebel and wild in his youth and I think he sees some of himself in you, honestly, that and he's drooling over your car. At any rate, I believe your words will add weight to the paradigm shift he's undergoing. While I've done hunting in Japan, and a little here and there in America, I'm not as familiar with American monsters, so I can't answer some of his questions as readily as I'd like to. The demon is a whole different level of complication, compounding the issues." 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin at Sam’s words. He hoped Sam wasn’t just teasing him. He didn’t think Sam was though, not with the almost eager look in the younger boy’s eyes. His young boyfriend looked so damned cute it was all Dean could do not to pull him down and kiss him again. It was probably a good thing he didn’t though since Sam’s mother chose that moment to barge in on them.

The older boy’s smile immediately slipped off his face then, not quite glaring at the older woman for her intrusion but keeping his expression carefully blank. Giving nothing away. He really hoped that he only looked like he was resituating himself in the bed rather than trying to hide his rather obvious hard on when he pulled the covers up over himself.

Dean braced himself for another, less pleasant, interrogation when Sam left the room. The younger boy had looked too damned guilty for his own good. The interrogation he was expecting didn’t come however. It was worse.

He’d really hoped to avoid any ‘family time’ while he was here. Dean seriously doubted the fact that Sam’s father ‘liked’ him too. Considering the man didn’t even want him staying here, it had taken convincing from his wife and son for that. A decision Sam’s mom was probably really regretting right now.

But there was more at stake now than merely making nice with Sam’s folks. If it would help convince Sam’s father that all this shit was real and make sure they all took the necessary steps to keep Sam and his family safe…

Dean sighed heavily and grudgingly nodded.

“Fine.” He answered, already feeling in his gut this was going to end badly. 

* * *

"We're not ogres, you know. Too short for that," Keiko said and gave Dean a slight smile before she turned and left the room. Sam nearly collided with his mother as he came out of the bathroom.

When they reached the kitchen, Sam said, "You know, he's not into the family thing really. It makes him uncomfortable."

"He can suck it up," Keiko said. "This isn't about family time. It's about you, protecting you. Protecting us all. Your father just needs to hear it from someone else I think. It's a lot to absorb all at once."

"Tell me about it," Sam muttered as he retrieved the dishes and began setting the table. As soon as he was done he filled the glasses with ice tea. "I'll call Dad and get Dean."

Sam walked to the garage and opened the door. "Dinner's ready."

"Sam…" his father said, looking concerned and bit baffled.

"Yeah, Dad?"

The man was quiet and shook his head. "Nothing. I'll be right in."

Nodding, Sam headed to Dean's room. "Need any help?"

* * *

Ogres… right. Funny. Dean did his best not to scowl at the comment and used the time alone after Sam’s mother had left to will away any remaining sign of his previous erection. It wasn’t all that difficult considering he was a little pissed off now.

Why the hell couldn’t they just leave it alone? He said he’d have dinner with them, damn it. But she couldn’t resist that little extra jibe. If it wasn’t Sam prodding him to ‘be nice’ it was his goddamn parents and he was really getting tired of it.

He _was_ being nice, damn it. He wasn’t cussing them out and he was staying out of their way for the most part. He was being down right professional… well… when he wasn’t molesting their son. Wasn’t that fucking enough?

They were never going to like him, so there was no sense in pretending otherwise. He was never going to like them, so why bother playing nice? Once Bobby picked him up they probably wouldn’t have to see all that much of each other. At least, not any more than any other job.

When Sam returned to the living room, asking him if he needed help, Dean did his best to school his expression as he shook his head negative.

“I’ve got it.” He confirmed, pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Yeah, he was still pretty tired and sore from all the activity he’d done today, but he could handle walking across the friggen hall to eat even if he didn’t have much of an appetite right now. 

* * *

"We'll eat fast, okay?" Sam said, seeing the hint of annoyance that colored Dean's features. "Then we'll be off to get our tattoos in no time." He stood on his toes and kissed Dean. "And come tonight, we'll finish what we started," he whispered, his eyes alight with promise and mischief. "Since you're obviously feeling better and all. And just think, come this time tomorrow, you'll probably be headed back to your place with Bobby." He frowned a little at that thought. "And then I will not see you until after school on Monday. Assuming you are well enough to drive and pick me up. It will be a long, lonely night tomorrow, so we'll have to make up for it tonight."

Sam offered Dean an arm to help steady him, but Dean seemed determined to make it on his own, so he let him, but stood close to help. When Dean reached the table, Sam pulled out the chair for him and insisted on helping him sit down in it. After squeezing Dean's shoulder in reassurance, he settled in his own chair.

Keiko had gotten all the food on the table and sat down by the time Jim arrived, pulling his sleeves down, having obviously just washed his hands. He sat at the head of the table and seeing the ice tea, shook his head and retrieved a beer from the fridge.

"Dean, when did you take a pain pill last? Can you have a beer, do you think?" he asked, getting one out for Keiko and even for Sam. 

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin at Sam’s kiss and the younger boy’s promises. It seemed like his boyfriend knew just what to say to improve his mood. Not to mention making him really look forward to tonight.

It _was_ going to be damned lonely tomorrow. Not being able to see Sam all day, and then only seeing him for a few hours at Bobby’s that afternoon until he had to go home. Just thinking about it almost made him miss Sam _now_ even with Sam standing right in front of him. But Dean didn’t want to think about tomorrow. He wanted to think of tonight. Of being with Sam more than they’d been able to yet. Of showing Sam just how much he… always wanted to be with him.

Ok, now he was being sappy. Sam seemed to know what to say to bring that side out of him too. Still he gave the younger boy a thankful smile before shaking his head at Sam’s offered arm. He needed to push himself so he would be ready.

It wasn’t just Eric he had to protect Sam from anymore. He had to push himself. He had to be ready.

Sam pulling out his chair for him at the table made Dean mentally groan though. He wasn’t a girl for fuck sake. But he didn’t say anything. A smile pulling at his lips in spite of himself when Sam touched his shoulder.

He hoped Sam was right and this would be over quickly, and hopefully not too painfully. He had no idea what kinds of questions Sam’s father was going to be asking him, and it kind of put him on edge as much as he wanted to deny it.

When the older man suddenly got up from the table and offered him a beer Dean did a double take. Dean looked briefly to Sam as though it was a trick question. Sure, Sam had offered him beers, even at the barbecue but that had been kind of a special occasion or something. But just for dinner?

“Uh… not for a while. Yeah, sure. Thanks.” 

* * *

Jim pulled out a fourth beer and returned to the table, setting them down and getting a bottle opener out. After opening each bottle he handed them out and then sat down. He took Keiko's dish and started ladling out the stew until she nodded. He picked up Dean's plate. "Say when," he said, filling it until Dean did. While he was getting Sam's and his own plate filled, Keiko was cutting up the warm bread and putting a thick slice on a plate for each of them. Sam was, meanwhile, dishing out the fruit salad. He looked at Dean and giggled at the slight face Dean made.

"It's fruit, it's good. Even had marshmallows in it," Sam said, but put just a small bit in Dean's bowl for Dean to try. "If you like it, there's plenty more."

Once all the food was out, the family started to eat. After a couple minutes of silence, Jim finally spoke. "Dean, Keiko tells me you hunt…monsters." He looked at his wife, then at Dean. "You'll have to forgive me my skepticism. I love and trust my wife and she says all of her family hunts these things, but I still find it hard to believe. So…could you tell me about some of the things you've hunted? And demons…do you really believe a _demon_ is after Sammy? I'm agreeing to the tattoos but I still," he shook his head, "I'm still trying to process it. Anything you could tell me to help me…accept this isn't all just some bad flashback acid trip from when I was younger would be appreciated. Because at the moment, I'm beginning to regret dropping acid when I was a teen." He glanced over at Sam. "And don't you get any ideas. It was a different time." Returning his attention to Dean, he looked at him, waiting for answers he didn't really want.

* * *

Dean really wasn’t used to other people dishing out his food for him and sat there a little uncomfortably wondering if he was supposed to be doing something. He sipped at his beer while he waited. Once everyone sat back and started eating he did as well, glad that Sam’s family wasn’t one to say grace or anything like that. He felt awkward enough.

He had to admit the stew and the bread was pretty damned good. Even the fruit was all right. Maybe he would get more later. It would be worth Sam’s _I told you so_.

Unfortunately he wasn’t given long to just enjoy the meal in silence, but at least he’d expected the questions, as well as the other man’s skepticism. After all, most people Dean and Bobby helped still wouldn’t believe monsters were real even when they were seconds away from being eaten. It was a lot easier to believe in psychos, elaborate pranks, and acid trips than to believe the monster under the bed was real.

Sam’s father was probably hoping that this was all some really weird April Fools joke or something that his wife and son had conjured up. He didn’t really want a story, he hoped Dean would deny that monsters were real, they’d all have a laugh at his expense, and life would go back to being safe and normal again.

Too bad Dean had to disappoint him.

“Alright… Proof?” Dean agreed after a time and put down his spoon. He pulled at the neck of his shirt, showing off his collarbone and a rather ugly scar on his shoulder. It looked like teeth marks.

“I got that one from a barghest when I was fifteen. They look like a big black dog, and I don’t mean the fluffy kind. They’ve got scales instead of hair, big teeth, red eyes, and hunt in packs.” Dean explained, then he pulled up his sleeve on his left arm and pointed to another scar. “A ghoul tried to take a piece out of me here. They live in cemeteries and take on the form of whatever they’ve recently eaten. Normally they only eat corpses but this one got a taste for fresh meat.”

Dean suddenly scooted his chair back and stood. Turning around he lifted up his shirt and showed off four very long parallel gashes along his back.

“A few years ago Bobby and I were hunting a werewolf in the area. We finally tracked it down at Chalmers. It was about to make a meal out of the Principal but Bobby and I got there in time. It got me pretty good before Bobby took it down. That’s how I got my ‘free ride’ at the school.”

Dropping his shirt he turned back to face the other man and sat down, his expression deadly serious.

“When I was four years old my parents died in a fire. Before I got out I saw something. A ‘man’ with yellow eyes. My family wasn’t the first it killed, and it won’t be the last. Are demons real? You bet your ass.”

* * *

Sam gaped at his father. His dad had done acid? His mom wasn't kidding when she'd called him a bad boy. Maybe that was why his dad was cool about him drinking the occasional beer, so long as he asked and didn't drink so much he got drunk. He knew his grandma and grandpa were kind of strict. Maybe that's why he got a lot of trust and latitude from his parents, and why he never felt the need to keep secrets, at least not until this stupid school and Eric…and Dean. He felt guilty suddenly, but it wasn't like he came home and told his parents when he'd kissed his first girl or anything.

He shifted his attention to Dean as Dean began to show off his scars. Even though he'd seen them, to know where they came from, it put a whole new spin on things. And then to learn Dean was going to the private school because they'd saved the principal. That was kinda cool, even though it sucked for Dean at the same time.

The way Dean told his father about the demon and the loss of his parents, Sam had to restrain himself from laying a hand on Dean's arm in consolation. He glanced at his parents, biting his lower lip. If he lost his parents…no, he didn't even want to think about it.

He watched as his father took in everything Dean said and saw his father's face grow hard and determined.

"It won't take this family," Jim vowed and took his wife's hand, then reached over and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Maybe you're crazy," he looked at Dean, then at his wife, "but I'd rather be accused of being crazy than sitting back and doing nothing if there is even the smallest chance this is all true." He blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "You two," he looked at Keiko and Dean, "tell me and Sam what we have to do and we'll do it."

Keiko squeezed her husband's hand and smiled at him. "You're amazing."

"I'm probably nuts. Just don't tell me I have to dance around outside the house nude at midnight, chanting some nonsense, okay?"

"No, Sam has to," Keiko said, looking at her son.

"What?!" Sam exclaimed.

Keiko began laughing.

* * *

Well, Dean was glad that his little strip tease had proved his point. That this all wasn’t some kind of joke. He supposed he couldn’t really blame the other man for still thinking he was a little bit crazy. He was used to that and Dean didn’t really give a shit what Sam’s father thought of him personally. At least he was willing to go along with it for now. Dean might not like having to share that much of his past with virtual strangers but if it helped to drive home the seriousness of the situation it was worth it.

When Sam’s mother laughed about the younger boy having to dance around naked Sam’s expression was priceless but Dean was far from amused. If they wanted to laugh and joke about this then they could do it without him here.

Clenching his jaw so that he wouldn’t say something that might make Sam hate him, Dean stood up again and walked out of the kitchen as quickly as he could move. As he stood in the middle of the living room, his hands clenched to fists at his side because he really felt like punching something right now, he seriously considered continuing out the front door. Fuck it. He needed some air.

Outside he didn’t really feel any better, except maybe a little less trapped. As he walked, well limped, down the road he wondered how long it would take him to make it home. Probably a lot longer than his leg would hold out. Besides… he couldn’t leave Sam.

He’d just got done telling them how his parents had been murdered by a fucking demon. By the same fucking demon that Sam was somehow dreaming about. The demon that Sam had some kind of strange connection with, knew its name, the demon that might be coming for them all and they wanted to laugh about it? Yeah, he knew they probably thought he was behaving like a childish prick, but he didn’t give a shit.


	15. Chapter 15

  


Sam watched Dean push himself angrily away from the table. The family fell silent as Dean stomped off into the other room.

Sam started to get up to follow him.

“Sam, leave him be for a minute,” Keiko said. When she heard the front door, she sighed to herself and pushed herself to her feet. “Both of you, stay here,” she said firmly. She hurried out the door and saw Dean was limping down the street.

She walked quickly, catching up to him. “I’m sorry. I was trying to ease the tension for both my scared husband and frightened son. It was meant as no disrespect to you or what you have been through. I will speak with Bobby tomorrow and confirm he is returning tomorrow evening. If that is the case, I will take you home after lunch so you don’t have to be around us any more since you find us so intolerable.” She paused and then said quietly, “If you want out of protecting Sam as well, please, tell me now. He cares about you and I won’t have him hurt if you’re doing this against your will. We’ll make other arrangements to keep him safe.”

* * *

Dean wasn’t all that surprised when he was followed. Honestly he’d expected Sam to come after him. Maybe the younger boy ripping him a new one before dragging him back into the house and forcing him to ‘be nice’ by threatening lack of making out as punishment. He wouldn’t have been happy about it but Dean might have tolerated it.

Sam’s mom coming after him, offering a half-assed apology that sounded more like she was scolding some troublesome two year old he definitely did not appreciate. Asking him if he was ‘doing this against his will’, yeah, like they could ever get him to do something he didn’t _want_ to do. Accusing him of trying to hurt Sam… that he was not going to tolerate.

The young man stopped dead in his tracks, straightened, and turned slowly. His expression hard as stone and his eyes practically sparking with barely controlled anger.

“Did I ask for a god damned apology? In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t give a shit what you think of me. If you want to sugar coat the situation that’s your business. You’re not doing them any favors. They should be afraid. So should you. You haven’t seen what this demon can do first hand.”

“I was looking out for Sam before you even knew what the fuck was going down at that school. If I didn’t want to help Sam I wouldn’t have picked him up on the side of the road when he was about to get jumped. I’m going to keep looking out for him whether you want me to or not.”

Dean spat out, practically fuming. She should have just left him alone, let him cool off on his own instead of pushing him. Always pushing him. Now he was a powder keg ready to go off and returning to Sam’s house was the very last thing he was willing to do. Bum ankle and stitches or not he was going home.

“I never asked for your fucking ‘hospitality’ and I sure as hell don’t need it now.” 

* * *

Keiko stared a moment at Dean, then punched him across the jaw.

“You are a thankless, rude, whiney-assed shit who thinks he’s the only one who’s lost family or had their lives ruined. Well you aren’t! I have lost much of my family to the hunt. I lost my child, my baby girl to evil. Not only my child but any ability to have more!

“My family has been nothing but kind to you but you take it as an affront. We have offered you food, you refuse to break your fast with us. We offered you our home so you would not have to stay at the hospital, and you have been nothing but a petulant child. You have had nightmares and my son and I have tried to keep them away. I have let you handle sacred treasures of my family line, shown you secrets of sharpening samurai blades. I have entrusted my son to you. I offered to protect you from possession and share with you secrets of my family! We could have helped each other but you choose to be a selfish bastard.” Her eyes were as hard and furious as Dean’s. “Stay away from my son. Stay away from my family. You are not welcome here. I will call a cab to return you to your house.” She spat a Japanese curse at him and turned on her heel and headed back toward her home. 

* * *

Dean probably should have expected the blow, but he hadn’t. He was used to getting hit with little warning, after all, and he had probably been asking for it that time. His face snapped to the side and he almost stumbled but thankfully he managed not to. Nothing more embarrassing than getting knocked on your ass by a woman, even if she was a hunter.

When he finally looked at her again his expression was cold and emotionless though his fists balled up at his side betrayed his emotions. He wasn’t going to strike back however. Even though she _had_ thrown the first punch. He wasn’t going to hit a woman. Not even a hunter. Despite what she might think of him, he did have some morals.

Besides, Sam would never forgive him. Not like the younger boy would probably forgive him anyway after this.

Was it his own fault? Sure. But he’d never pretended to be anything else. She knew what he was before. Now at least it was finally in the open. What she really thought of him. He still didn’t care. He’d heard worse.

Hearing her ordering him to stay away from Sam, yeah that hurt, but he’d been expecting it from the very beginning. He’d meant what he said though. He was going to keep looking out for Sam whether she wanted him to or not.

“Don’t bother.” Dean snapped at her ‘offer’ to call him a cab. He’d make it just fine on his own. He always had. He always would.

He turned and kept walking down the street. He knew the way home. Knew where the spare key to get in Bobby’s place was. As for his stuff, either Bobby could pick it up later or she could burn it for all he cared right now. 

* * *

Keiko stormed back into the house and to the phone. She started to call Bobby, but he was on a hunt and you didn't distract a hunter in the middle of a hunt unless it was life or death. Dean had already said he'd turn down a cab and she didn't doubt that he would. She had promised Bobby she would look after the boy and instead she kicked him out…even if he did deserve it.

"Sam!" she snapped. "Go after him. Tell him to get his butt back here and we'll take him home first thing in the morning." She walked into the dining room and looked at her son. "He'll tell you I kicked him out and told him to stay away from you and us. But my promise to Bobby comes first. Come tomorrow, after we take him home, that's it. And we're putting you back in your old high school. I'm sorry, I know you and he are friends, but I won't tolerate that sort of crap from another adult and certainly not from a teenager."

Sam started to open his mouth to say something and Keiko gave him a look that told him he best just keep his mouth shut.

Pushing away from the table, Sam went out the front door and jogged to catch up with Dean.

"Hi," he said quietly. "Nice night for a walk…Mom said she's sorry. Please, come back in Dean. Mom or Dad will take you home first thing in the morning. Come back in, we'll watch movies and…you know. Stuff. No parents. Just you and me."

* * *

Dean forced himself to keep an easy pace as he walked down the street. As much as he would have liked to get away from this suburban hellhole as quickly as possible he knew his ankle wasn’t going to hold out if he put too much stress on it too early. The fact that he already put a hell of a lot of stress on it today in general certainly wasn’t going to make things any easier.

He gave a small resigned sigh when he heard the jogging footsteps approach from behind. Frankly, he was surprised as hell to hear them. He wondered if this was Sam’s idea, or his mother’s.

Apparently it was Sam’s mother’s, which only made the young man’s heart sink lower. He really would have rather it been Sam’s.

Dean snorted bitterly in disbelief. Sorry… yeah… he believed that. Not. He shook his head slowly, avoiding looking at Sam by watching the pavement in front of him. Just one foot in front of the other. One step at a time. Just like the last time he’d run away, he had barely been able to walk then too, but he’d managed. And for much the same reasons.

He just couldn’t do it anymore.

Sure, he supposed the Colts were a hell of a lot ‘nicer’ than his last foster father had been. So had some of the other families he’d stayed with over the years, but in the end it was all the same. When he told the truth disbelief and anger followed. When he became too ‘difficult’ he was thrown out. If he started to care… for anything… it was taken away.

Yeah, he knew _he_ was the problem. He was the damaged goods… but that didn’t really change anything, did it?

Only Bobby had never thrown him away. Dean didn’t know why the old hunter was different. Why he put up with his crap when no one else could. Why he understood him better than anyone else ever had in his life… except maybe Sam.

“Trust me, Sam. It’s better for everyone if I leave now.” Dean finally replied, still not looking at Sam. 

* * *

Sam felt his chest tighten and his heart tumble into the pit of his stomach. No! He couldn't lose Dean. He didn't want to lose Dean. He'd work on his parents, get them to relent. His mom could be damned stubborn, but so could he. Right now, though, he had to convince Dean it wasn't over and it wasn't hopeless.

"No," Sam insisted, grabbing Dean's arm and making him stop. "Please come back inside. You shouldn't walk all that way on your ankle. Mom'll cool off. And…and right now Mom's said I can't see you any more after tonight. Just come back inside, you and I will go to your room and you don't have to talk to either of them, okay? Besides, I have a present for you. It's not done yet, but I can show you what I've got done. I want to show you. And all your stuff is back in the house."

Sam stepped in front of Dean. "Please, Dean, please. You have to come back. For me. Not them. Just for me. Don't make me kiss you out here on the street in plain sight of everyone. I will do it, I swear I will. I'll kiss you so hot it'll make smoke and the fire department will be called and there will be flashing lights and everything."

* * *

“Sam…” Dean tried to pull away when the younger boy grabbed his arm, to get a word in edgewise, but Sam wasn’t letting him.

He’d always known that the younger boy wouldn’t defy his parents if they told him that Sam couldn’t see Dean anymore, but it still didn’t make it any easier to hear confirmed. Knowing that right now, tonight, might be the last time he would really see, really be with, Sam…

When the younger boy moved in front of him and Dean finally looked at Sam that proved to be his undoing. Really, how was he supposed to deny Sam when the younger boy was begging him like that?

“Alright.” Dean finally forced out. Even if it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, he’d go back. For Sam. Not for anyone else. Not even for himself. Just for Sam.

But if he was screwed anyway, might as well make the most of it.

So, definitely not caring who might be watching right now, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled the younger boy against him. Leaning in he captured his boyfriend’s lips in a kiss just like the one that Sam described. 

* * *

Sam breathed a sigh of relief when Dean finally caved and agreed. He wasn't really sure there for a minute if Dean was just going to say 'fuck it' and leave anyhow. He wanted another night with Dean, and once his parents were in bed, he and Dean could make out like he'd been wanting to make out with Dean. Looking into Dean's handsome face, he just knew he was going to have to convince his mom to back down on not letting him see Dean. Who was going to teach him to fight? And what was to stop Eric from stopping by afer Sam got home from school and before his parents got home? His mom would see the sense of it soon enough. Sure Dean could have been a little more tolerant, a little less touchy, but Dean was Dean. He'd had a rough life and Sam knew it was Dean's defense mechanism, the way he got through the days.

Suddenly Sam found himself in Dean's arms, Dean's lips pressed firmly against his, Dean's tongue teasing at his lips, begging entrance. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and opened his mouth, hardly without thinking. He was moaning softly into Dean's mouth as Dean kissed the daylights out of him, not even thinking about the fact they were out in the open and anyone could see them. He didn't care at the moment. He just wanted to be in Dean's arms, feeling safe and protected and loved in a way he never had before.

* * *

Sam’s lips parted under his own, the younger boy seeming to practically melt into the kiss as he always had, and Dean couldn’t really describe the relief he felt. There were plenty of reasons for Sam to shove him away right now. Dean wouldn’t have been surprised if Sam had. He wouldn’t have really blamed the other boy either. But Sam didn’t.

He knew he should pull away. Every second they stayed like this was more of a chance of someone seeing them. He didn’t really care. Things had already gone to shit pretty spectacularly. But then Dean reminded himself Sam’s parents could still have him arrested for statutory rape, and considering they were already pretty pissed off at him… Besides he should probably let Sam breathe sometime.

So Dean finally drew back, loosening his hold on the younger boy though he didn’t let him go completely.

“Sorry.” He finally said, giving Sam an awkward smile that didn’t really reach his eyes. He only partly meant molesting the younger boy on the street corner. Dean had never meant to make Sam’s life even more difficult. Everything had just happened so quickly. Spiraling out of control.

“I told her I was still going to watch your back even if she didn’t want me to. I meant it.” Dean admitted. He needed Sam to know that even though he’d been leaving he wasn’t abandoning him. 

* * *

Sam was panting by the time Dean finally let him really take a good breath. He felt a little starry-eyed and giddy from the kiss. "Wow…" he murmured, looking into Dean's green eyes. He only vaguely heard Dean's apology over the pounding of his own heart. He touched the bruise forming on Dean's face as he promised he'd still watch out for Sam.

"Mom said she's going to put me back in my old school." Sam gave a shrug. "I'm sure Mom and Dad'll have a discussion about it, so just cause she said it doesn't mean it'll happen. I can't believe Mom'll let me stay home by myself between getting out from school until one of them gets home, not with Eric and the…the…you know as possible threats. And since I'm pretty sure you won Dad over…it'll work out. It might just take a couple weeks to get Mom to chill. That'll give you time to get healed up proper anyhow."

He gave Dean a quick, practically shy, kiss on the lips. "Let's get back in the house and get you off your ankle and I'll get some warm Epsom salts for you to soak it in and we'll watch some movies, okay? Movies that have nothing to do with monsters or yellowed eyed anything. Do you like westerns? My dad has a couple Clint Eastwood movies." Sam turned and pulled Dean's arm over his shoulder. He gave Dean a smile. "Lean on me, okay? Or pretend to so you can have your arm over my shoulder."

* * *

Dean couldn’t help feeling proud of Sam’s reaction to his kiss, grinning at the younger boy’s word and expression. Unfortunately his smile began to face the moment Sam touched his face and by the time his boyfriend was done speaking it was all but gone. He wished he could feel half as optimistic as Sam was, but life had taught him otherwise.

“Sure.” Dean responded with a slight nod when the younger boy suggested they go inside. He wished he could pretend to feel a little more enthusiastic than he really felt but that was pretty much impossible. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sam’s mother ordered the younger boy to his room and to leave him alone the second they got inside. She didn’t want him near her son, after all, so why would she let Sam stay with him?

He let Sam tug his arm over the younger boy’s shoulders, not because he needed the help but because it might be the last time he’d be able to for a while. At least that’s what he told himself as they made their way slowly back to Sam’s house. 

* * *

Sam was in no hurry to get back inside so walked slowly, giving Dean the occasional smile. When they finally reached the front door, he opened it and could hear his parents 'talking'

"…we don't have a choice. Look, I know the kid is rough around the edges, but hell, he was probably bounced from home to home and not shown a lick of respect himself," Jim said. "He seems like a good kid at heart and after the things he's faced, I'd feel better if Sam were with him than here at home alone."

"I won't be talked to like a woman who should walk three steps behind a man with her head down!" Keiko said. "I was and am a hunter and at least deserve some measure of respect for that!"

"He didn't hit you back," Jim said.

A glass shattered.

"Keiko, calm down! Lord, it's not the end of the world. He doesn't respect us, so what. He probably doesn't respect anyone except Bobby. This isn't Japan and not all kids, most kids, don't respect their elders."

"What did we do or say to make him hate us—"

"Shhh, it's okay honey. I know this demon thing scares the daylights out of you. Which scares the hell out of me because you're not afraid of anything. Why don't you go out back and get out your bow and then maybe do some meditation afterwards. I'll clean up then look in on the boys, okay?"

Sam heard his mother's soft sob and his jaw clenched. He closed the door behind Dean loudly.

"We're back. We're gonna watch some movies."

"Okay, Sam," Jim called. "I'll bring you two in some Coke in a bit."

"Thanks, Dad," Sam called back, grabbing a couple westerns off the bookshelf and heading down to Dean's room with them. 

* * *

The second Dean and Sam walked into the house they could hear Sam’s parents arguing in the other room. The older boy felt a cold heavy stone in the pit of his stomach at how familiar it sounded. Dean glanced at Sam and the expression on the younger boy’s face made the stone grow colder and heavier.

This was his fault.

He winced a little when Sam closed the door behind them a little too loudly. Dean wondered how much that had to do with ‘announcing’ their presence, and how much it had to do with Sam being pissed with him. Sam really had every right to be.

Dean pulled his arm off Sam’s shoulder, watching the younger boy for a moment as he headed upstairs before he limped slowly to ‘his’ room alone. Sitting down on the edge of the bed he started to undo the straps on his ankle brace. It hurt like hell because of his still healing side but he managed, then he winced seeing how swollen his ankle was. He'd really pushed it too far today, but it was his own damned fault.

Sighing heavily Dean laid back on the bed, covering his eyes with his arm as he waited for the throbbing to fade a little before he moved again. 

* * *

Sam heard the back door open and close and went to the dining room.

"Dad?"

Jim looked up from where he was gathering the dirty dishes. "Your mother will be okay, she's just…worried…I think."

"What about Dean, and high school?" he asked.

"Dean's not going to be back to school for at least a few days, probably a week." He squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Let her cool off. Your friend is a bit anti-social and Keiko has a short temper about certain things. What do you want to do about high school? I pushed you hard about going to Chalmers. Do you think you can be happy at Chalmers? More importantly, safe?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know," he said quietly.

"You think about it tonight and tomorrow. We'll talk again tomorrow night. Maybe we can take Dean home tomorrow and stop on the way and get those tattoos. Might ease your mother's mind a little."

Sam nodded. "I'm going to grab some Coke for us and we're going to watch some of your westerns, okay?"

"That's fine. Tell Dean I'll talk with your mother and try to get her to…ease up."

Sam gave his father a small smile. "Thanks, Dad. Dean's…he's kind of important to me. I don't want to not be friends with him. We get along…I dunno, like we were always meant to be friends."

"One man in a thousand, Solomon says, will stick more close than a brother…"

Sam grinned at the Kipling reference. "And it's worth while seeking him half your days if you find him before the other."

"Go watch your movies. I've got this," Jim said approvingly.

Sam grabbed a couple cans out of the fridge and headed down to Dean's room. He paused in the door, seeing Dean laying with his arm over his eyes. His ankle looked swollen and painful.

"Hey. Dad said not to freak. He'll talk with her. Maybe she's, you know, that time of the month or something. I've got Coke and Eastwood. I'm going get you some warm water and Epsom salts for your ankle and then I'll put in a movie.

* * *

Hearing Sam’s parents arguing about him had brought back a lot of memories. Memories of lying in bed in the middle of the night, sitting on the stairs in his pajamas, or listening around corners silently eavesdropping to whatever foster family he was currently staying with at the time doing the same thing. Arguing over him. After so many times hearing the same things over and over he really didn’t even need to eavesdrop anymore.

_“…too much of a handful…”_

_“…screams every night…”_

_“…driving me crazy…”_

_“… disrespectful…”_

_“… can’t take it anymore…”_

_“… has to go…”_

The first time he’d been six and he remembered crying even though he hadn’t really liked the foster parents to begin with. He might have cried the second and third time too, but he didn’t remember. After a while he stopped crying. He’d thought after hearing it repeated so often he’d gotten used to it by now. But hearing Sam’s parents arguing over him the same way that so many others had right before he was given up to a different home or sent back to the orphanage… he didn’t like the feelings it churned up inside of him. He'd spent so long trying to forget his past but it always seemed to catch up to him eventually, like a hellhound hot on his heels.

Dean sighed heavily. All things aside, Sam was lucky to have parents that cared so much about him.

He heard the younger boy in the doorway but Dean didn’t drop his arm away from his face until after Sam had finished speaking. He tilted his head back to look at the younger boy upside down and gave Sam a faint smile that didn’t really reach his eyes.

“Sammy, you don’t have to make excuses for your mom. I know I fucked up, and I deserved what I got.” He said, absently rubbing the tender spot on his cheek. 

* * *

Sam gave a small shrug. "Well, Mom's kind of sensitive about respect. In Japan, half the time the men will be waited on first before the women, like standing in line for a ticket for the subway and stuff. So she tends to react pretty strongly, whether it's real or not. Dad said when he drives you home tomorrow maybe the three of us can stop and get the tattoos, if you still want to."

Seeing Dean look at him upside down like that made his heart kinda flip-flop and he couldn't resist. He leaned in and gave Dean an upside down kiss. He decided it was kind of awkward though and didn't let it get intense. Besides, he wanted to get Dean's foot soaking. He set the cokes and movies on the table and then lightly touched Dean's bruised cheek. "I can't believe she actually hit you. Sorry. Goes back to the respect thing. Feels she has to prove herself, I think. Thanks for not hitting her back. I…I wouldn't have liked that, even if, you know, getting hit, you just want to hit back." He brushed back Dean's hair from his forehead. "I'm gonna go get the saltwater for you now."

* * *

Dean gave a small frown when Sam tried to explain why he’d pissed his mother off so badly. She was pissed at him because she thought he was sexist? Well, that was a load of bullshit. He was like this with everyone, not because she had breasts. In fact, he was usually _more_ polite to women… well if they were hot.

He’d even tried being nice… polite… whatever… like Bobby asked him to. But something about these people just got under his skin. He wasn’t even really sure what it was, except that they reminded him way too much of everyone who’d always thrown him away during his life. Especially the moment Sam’s mother had hit him and told him to stay away from her son. Yeah, that was very familiar.

Sometimes Dean couldn’t help but wonder if his parents had lived if… it would have been the same with them too. If they would have grown to hate him like everyone else did…

Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why did they always have to push him? Sure, he and Bobby got into their share of fights, but the older hunter also always seemed to know when it was better to leave him alone and let Dean cool off. Or maybe Bobby left him alone so _he_ could cool off. Either way, it worked for them.

Sam’s soft upside down kiss pulled him out of his thoughts and he gave the younger boy a slightly more genuine smile. It faded rather quickly however when Sam talked about his mother hitting him and the younger boy thanking him for not striking her back. Did Sam think he would? Had he given Sam any reason to think he wouldn’t hit back?

He reached out and caught Sam’s hand before the younger boy could pull away.

“I wouldn’t have, Sam. I don’t go around hitting women… well, unless they’re possessed or something.”

* * *

Sam furrowed his brow at what Dean said, then gave a slight chuckle. His one hand went to the back of his neck and he looked at Dean kind of sheepishly. "I didn't think you go around hitting women, it's just that…Mom's all for equal rights. She's always taught me that if a woman gets physical, a man should have every right to defend themselves. She hit you. You had every right to defend yourself and if that meant hitting her back, then," he shrugged, "she would have felt it was justified if you gave her a black eye or something."

Sam rested his hand on the one Dean had wrapped around his wrist. "Mom's kind of a conundrum. She believes in showing respect to elders and loved ones, in the traditional way. She expects Dad to open the door for her or get her chair for her. She in turn feels it's her duty to ensure he has his coffee and paper, cook him dinner, stuff like that. She'll even do the traditional dress in Japan for her parents. But she says that's respect out of love. Family matters are decided by both Mom and Dad. Out in the world she won't back down from anyone if she feels someone's been out of line about something.

"She' short tempered about certain things, you're short tempered about certain things. You two are kind of fire and water I think. If you want to smooth things over with her, and I'm _not_ saying you have to, just saying if you _want_ to, how you'd do it is apologize, say obviously you two don't see eye to eye on things, and call her Mrs. Colt. Thank yous, pleases and using Mr and Mrs Colt would all score you major points with her. Dad's more laid back usually, and he really does kinda like you. I guess since he was a rebel and all, I think maybe he understands you a whole lot better than Mom ever will."

Leaning down he planted a quick kiss on Dean's lips. "I'm just trying to give you, you know, some insight into my family. I'm not saying you have to do anything, okay? It isn't your thing. I get it. Well, sort of get it. It just…kinda makes it harder if you and them don't get along, but we'll figure it out. Now take one of your pain pills and I'll get the water for your foot." 

* * *

A conundrum… yeah that seemed to be an understatement. Seemed to run in the family, Dean couldn’t help but think, staring at his young lover as Sam tried to explain his mother. He didn’t think he’d ever understand, and truth be told, he really didn’t want to.

As he’d told the Japanese woman, he didn’t give a damn what she thought of him and that hadn’t really changed after she’s punched him. Whether he “tried” or not, he was never going to be what she wanted him to be, and Dean had stopped trying to be what others wanted a long, long, time ago. She wasn’t _his_ mother. He wasn’t going to be a performing monkey.

He doubted anything he said or did would make much of a difference anyway. If she didn’t want him around her son now, when they were just “friends”, she sure as hell wasn’t going to want him around if she found out he and Sam were fucking.

Besides, he didn’t see why _he_ had to apologize just for speaking his mind. Yeah it was his fault he’d pissed her off. She didn’t like what he had to say, fine. She punched him, end of story. He wasn’t going to apologize for getting her panties in a twist. He’d rather be punched… at least that was honest.

When Sam told him to take one of his pain pills, Dean sighed softly and nodded. That, he could agree on at least. He really needed one at this point. So even though he really didn’t want to move right now he slowly pushed himself up. Gritting his teeth against the pain the pull in his side caused, and trying not to move his foot too much either. Fuck he was a mess.

But he managed to grab his pill bottle and glass of water from the table where it had been left. Deciding a double dose couldn’t really hurt right now, Dean took two instead of one. Setting the pills and water back down on the table he laid down and covered his eyes with his arm again, waiting for Sam to return. 

* * *

Sam could tell Dean wasn't going to suck it up and make peace with his mom. He told Dean he didn't have to, but he still wished Dean would. Maybe come morning he would feel better and be willing to wave an olive branch. He suspected, though, that he probably had a better chance of winning the lottery.

Sam got the water adjusted to a nice warm temperature that verged on being hot then poured in the Epsom salts and swirled his hand around inside the broad bucket until the salt had dissolved. He carried it in to where Dean was laying. Dean looked totally wiped out. Maybe he could convince Dean to stay, convince his parents to let Dean stay. He really didn't look like he would be in any condition to stay by himself, and that sort of worried Sam. He'd prefer to keep Dean under watch, though Dean would probably be a whole lot more relaxed at his own house.

Maybe he could convince his dad to let him stay with Dean until Bobby got home. He just had to figure out how to get his mom to back down on the no seeing Dean. He was fairly certain he could use the fact a demon was haunting him to convince her to relent. He hoped.

"Here you go." Gently, he lifted Dean's leg and slowly lowered his foot into the hot water. "This will make you feel better." He studied Dean for a minute then said quietly, "You look really wiped. You want me to just turn off the light and let you get some sleep?"

* * *

Dean didn’t drop his arm when he heard Sam return. The sloshing sounds as the younger boy set the water down on the floor all the proof he’d needed that Sam had kept his promise to help him soak his ankle. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at Sam. It was that he didn’t want the other boy to see the pained expression on his face when he helped him move his foot into the water. Even though Sam was careful it still hurt like a motherfucker.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean finally muttered when he was sure his voice wouldn’t give away how exhausted or hurt he was feeling right now. At least the warm water was helping a bit… at least he thought it was. Still kind of early to tell at this point.

When Sam offered to leave, however, Dean finally dropped his arm and looked down at the younger boy.

“I…” Dean started to tell Sam that he wasn’t tired, but stopped realizing how unconvincing he’d probably sound. Plus, he didn’t want Sam to think he had to stay here and entertain him or whatever if Sam didn’t want to.

“Sure, ok.” He found himself saying instead, even though he really didn’t want Sam to leave. 

* * *

Sam waited to see what Dean was going to say, slightly tilting his head, but saw the various emotions war within Dean. It didn't take a genius to see that Dean's self esteem was deeper in the gutter than normal, probably thanks to his mom. He wanted to shake Dean and tell him he was worth something, that he was important, but Sam figured no matter how many times he said that, Dean still wouldn't believe him. When Dean just dociley agreed to go to sleep, Sam knew Dean was hurting, feeling alone, and probably the last thing Dean wanted was to be alone…but then with Dean, who could tell. Dean liked to stalk off to stew in his own juices if he was upset. Really, Sam figured Dean was hurting too much to really be upset at the moment, but since he didn't really know what his mother had said to Dean…a guy could go crazy trying ot figure Dean out and which way to jump with him.

Finally Sam stood up and crossed his arms. "You suck at lying."

Grabbing one of the movies, he put it to watch, but turned the volume down and then shut off the lights. After placing a light blanket over Dean he settled onto the couch by him, being careful not to jostle Dean as he did.

"There. Now you can watch the movie if you want, or you can fall asleep if you want," Sam said, grabbing his can of Coke and opening it. After taking a long drink of it, he slid his hand under the blanket and took Dean's hand giving it a light squeeze. "You'll feel better soon, promise," Sam whispered to him.

* * *

Dean waited for Sam to turn off the light and leave, figuring he would now since that’s what he said he was going to do. But instead the younger boy merely stood there, looking at him kind of funny. What, did he have something on his face? Before Dean could ask however Sam was announcing that he sucked at lying and proceeded to put one of the movies into the tape player.

Really, Dean wasn’t sure if he should be offended, because he really _wasn’t_ a terrible liar. In fact he was pretty damned good at it. Though Bobby had always been able to see through his bullshit pretty damned easy. Granted, Dean wasn’t really trying to lie all that well with Sam just now… and maybe he’d done it on purpose. Just so Sam could call him on it.

Well, whatever the reason Dean couldn’t help the small smile that curved his lips as he watched the younger boy settle down next to him. He’d given Sam an out and the younger boy had chosen to stay with him, so… yeah, maybe they were still good.

Making himself as comfortable as he could, Dean settled in to watch the movie. Sam taking his hand under the blanket was all kinds of girly but it didn’t stop a stupid grin from pulling at Dean’s lips. It didn’t stop him from returning the gentle squeeze either. 

* * *

_Sam smiled at Dean and then they began kissing. He liked the silkiness of Dean’s lips, the way Dean smelled, the strength in the arms wrapped around him. Then Dean was gone, ripped away from him and he was alone in the dark._

_“Hello, Sammy,” the yellow-eyed man crooned. “It’s almost time.”_

_Sam felt his heart thump rapidly against his chest. “Time for what?”_

_“For your next lesson, of course.”_

_“You can’t touch me. Dean won’t let you!” Sam shouted back at the dark silhouette._

_The way the man laughed made Sam’s skin crawl._

_“He couldn’t help you before. Your parents couldn’t help you before. Dear Keiko has no idea what she’s up against either. You’ll lose everything and all you’ll have left is me. You’ll turn to me, beg me to make it stop, promise me anything. Already my blood courses in your veins. You can feel it, can’t you? It’s beginning to stir. As you grow closer into becoming a man, so does it grow inside you.”_

_“No! I won’t be yours. I belong to Dean!” Sam screamed at him, not sure why the words felt so right, but they did._

_“You belong to Dean?” The man cackled. “Sweet little Sammy, you just keep right on believing that. It will only bring you closer to me. But you were never his. You were mine. Always mine.”_

_The man slit open his own wrist and Sam found himself on his back, unable to move. The man forced his mouth open and the blood dripped from the wound into Sam’s mouth. He felt like he was choking as he fought it, as he tried to spit it back out, but he couldn’t.”_

_“It’ll make you big and strong. Better than mother’s milk. If you just stop fighting me, no one will get hurt. If you insist…then you will regret what lies ahead.”_

_Sam fought and struggled to get free, kicking and swinging his fists. “No! No!” he screamed. “I won’t be yours, I won’t….”_

* * *

The two boys had stayed up watching movies for quite a while though Dean wasn’t fully awake for most of them he didn’t really sleep either. Despite how exhausted Dean felt the constant throbbing in his side and ankle kept him from simply drifting off. The fact that he was kind of hungry probably had something to do with it too, but considering he’d stormed out in the middle of dinner he wasn’t going to beg for something to eat now.

At least the warm water Sam had brought him to soak his foot in had helped, reducing the sharp pain in his ankle to a duller ache. Sprains could be almost as bad as breaks, and even though the doctor said his was mild it sure as hell didn’t feel that way most of the time. Probably because he wasn’t really taking it easy like he should have been, but Dean wasn’t about to admit that aloud.

Dean hoped that Jeff was still willing to stay around and watch Sam’s back for a while until Dean was back on his feet. He also hoped that Sam’s mom, despite the fact she hated him, wouldn’t object to Jeff still keeping an eye on the younger boy. Would Sam’s parents really put him back in his old school? It probably was the best thing for the younger boy. Bobby had said if Sam switched schools then so could Dean, but that was before…

By the middle of the third movie Dean couldn’t keep from yawning every minute or so, and Sam helped him rearrange himself a little more comfortably on the couch bed. They’d decided to let his ankle go without a wrap or the brace for the night and see how it looked in the morning.

Dean had been a little surprised that Sam had stayed. Even more surprised that one of Sam’s parents hadn’t come down to shoo the younger boy up to his room. He’d fallen asleep listening to cheesy western music in the background, Sam’s fingers still curled around his hidden beneath the blanket. It wasn’t what they’d planned, but all things considered… it had been a pretty good night.

Being elbowed in his side was definitely not how Dean had wanted to wake up but it certainly got his attention. He was awake in an instant, gritting his teeth in pain, even as his eyes focused with immediate worry on the thrashing young man beside him. Sam was sweating, his face pinched in pain or fear, and fighting against the covers tangled around him. The sounds Sam made were absolutely terrified and tore at Dean’s heart.

“Hey… Sammy… it’s all right. Easy, baby… wake up. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Time to wake up now, Sammy.” Dean spoke loud enough to try to reach the panicked young man but soft and reassuring as well. He didn’t try to shake the younger boy awake, figuring that would only panic Sam more. But he did have to catch Sam’s hands to keep from getting punched in the face again. 

* * *

  
_He swore he could hear Dean's voice calling to him, as if from very far away, telling him it was all right, that he was safe, but the yellow eyed man continued to hold him down, dripping blood into his mouth and down his throat._

_"Dean!" Sam tried to yell but his throat was filled with blood and it was only a disgusting sounding gurgle._

_His wrists were suddenly gripped and the yellow-eyed man growled with annoyance. "I'll be back Sammy. Just remember, you're mine. If you fight against me, your sweet Dean-o will pay. Next time, the car won't miss…"_

_Suddenly the yellow-eyed man was gone._

Sam felt himself swimming back toward consciousness and even though his wrists were being held, the grip was warm and familiar. He opened his eyes and started to speak, but as he opened his mouth, blood poured out over his lips and down the front of him. He could taste it in his mouth, and could just barely see the red in the glowing light of the TV that was still on. He wanted to throw up, God, he wanted to throw up. He pulled himself free of Dean and the blanket he'd pulled over himself, nearly tripping over the tangled blanket as he ran straight for the bathroom, turning on the light. He stuck his finger down his throat, but nothing happened, like his gag reflex was completely numbed or non-existent. He tried several times, but nothing, nothing at all.

He turned to the sink and in the mirror over it saw his reflection and the blood that coated the front of his shirt and dripped from his mouth. He was pale as a ghost. Nosebleed. He'd tell his mom he had a nosebleed. Or just throw away the t-shirt in the trash. He wasn't sure he could ever were the t-shirt again anyhow.

His hand shook as he filled up a cup with water and rinsed his mouth again and again, spitting out pink tinged water. Tears slid down his cheeks as he filled the cup again. He poked and prodded his mouth with his tongue but couldn't find a wound anywhere. There was no place the blood could have come from. No place except the yellow-eyed man.

* * *

When Sam’s eyes finally snapped open Dean felt a moment of relief that the younger boy was awake. Seeing Sam caught in a nightmare, terrified, much like Dean was during his own nightmares, was painful. Even though Sam still looked panicked, Dean felt confident now at least he could calm the boy down and reassure him everything was all right, everything would be all right. Everything changed however when blood suddenly spilled out of the younger boy’s mouth and Dean felt himself go cold with shock and horror.

But before he could process what was happening, Sam suddenly wrenched himself way from Dean and ran out of the room like the devil was after him.

“Sam!” Dean shouted but the younger boy didn’t seem to even hear him. His side still hurt like a bitch from where Sam elbowed him, and his ankle throbbed in pain the second he sat up and put weight on it. He didn’t even have it wrapped, but Dean didn’t give a shit as he stumbled out of the bed after Sam.

It took far too long for him to hobble his way to the light of the bathroom, his only real clue where Sam had gone, but when he finally got there his heart twisted in his chest. Sam looked like he’d seen a ghost. His shirt was covered in blood and his face was covered in sweat and tears. He looked awful. Scared.

Dean was scared too, but he tried to look reassuring instead as he stepped into the bathroom and approached the younger boy carefully. He didn’t want to scare Sam more and send him into another panic, even though he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms tightly around the younger boy and never let him go.

“Sammy? You ok, baby?” Dean asked softly, stepping behind the other boy and risking a careful hand placed on Sam’s back, rubbing gently. “What did you see?” He finally asked even though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been a normal dream. Of that Dean was certain. 

* * *

Sam felt Dean's presence before ever seeing him. He met Dean's worried gaze in the mirror and felt the comforting hand on his back. The sound of rapid footsteps on the stairs sounded above them, two sets of feet, Sam knew. They must have heard Dean's shout.

Looking at Dean, he shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it. He stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it on the floor by the sink, but his chest had smears of blood on it from where the blood had soaked through. Setting the cup aside and turning the water on, Sam cupped his hands under the water and washed his face and chest with the icy water.

"Sam?" Keiko asked worriedly from the door. Her husband stood behind her, concern etched in both their faces. They were both in Japanese yukatas, a relaxed version of kimonos that they were essentially using as bathrobes.

Sam grabbed the hand towel and wiped off his face and chest. "I'm…okay," he whispered horsely. "Mom, do we have any ipecac? I need to throw up. I really, really need to throw up."

Keiko's brow furrowed and her gaze went from her son to Dean. Dean looked as worried about Sam as she felt. "I…I think we have some. I'll go look."

"Sammy," his father said, "what happened?"

"It was just…just one of my dreams," Sam said, turning pressing his shoulder lightly against Dean's chest. He felt Dean's hand return to his back. He was still trembling and prayed they had something that would make him throw up. The blood…he had swallowed so much blood in his dream. Demon blood. Sam lowered his head, fighting back the tears.

"Why do you need to throw up, Son?" Jim asked.

"I…I think I swallowed something while I was dreaming. I just want…want to make sure it's not…that I get it out. I tried the finger down my throat but…but I can't seem to make myself throw up."

"What do you think you swallowed?" Jim asked.

Sam shook his head. "If I throw up something, then…then we'll know, okay?" 

* * *

Dean tried not to feel hurt when Sam didn’t answer his questions, and merely shook his head in response, not really meeting his eyes in the mirror. He understood that the younger boy was afraid, and upset, but… Dean had thought they were to a point where Sam trusted him. He’d thought Sam could talk to him… tell him anything. Sure, maybe Dean was being a little hypocritical, he wasn’t the most forthcoming about a lot of shit, but still he’d told Sam things he’d never told anyone. And if this had something to do with the demon… he needed to know.

The older boy heard the running footsteps and cursed silently. He had only himself to blame for the interruption. He was the one who had shouted, after all, but he hadn’t really been thinking. He was too worried about Sam. Dean wondered how much Sam’s unwillingness to talk to him was the result of his parents’ approach.

Reluctantly Dean dropped his hand away from the younger boy’s bare back before Sam’s parents could see them. He didn’t say anything as they asked Sam what was wrong, but neither did he move out of their way. His eyes fixed on the younger boy while Sam explained, or rather didn’t explain, what had happened.

Sam was lying out of his ass. Dean could tell. It wasn’t just a dream. But Dean didn’t call the younger boy’s bullshit. If Sam didn’t want his parents to know the truth, then Dean would let him keep his secret. For now. He’d get the truth out of Sam once they were gone and if he felt it was important enough that Keiko should know about it he’d decide what to do then.

For now when Sam shifted subtly closer to him he rested his hand on the younger boy’s back comfortingly again. Suddenly not giving a shit what Sam’s parents saw or how they might react.

“You probably just have a case of food poisoning that’s making you feel sick.” Dean said softly, rubbing Sam’s back, letting Sam know that he was here for him and he was going to support him no matter what. But Dean couldn’t forget the image of the blood pouring from Sam’s mouth when he’s woken the younger boy up. Sam didn’t seem to be injured or in pain now, just shaken, but where the hell had the blood come from? 

* * *

Sam nodded at Dean's words, grateful Dean wasn't pushing him on this and grateful he wasn't telling his parents. When he threw up, if he threw up blood, then…then he'd really freak and he wasn't certain what he'd do. If he just threw up normal stuff, then he could relax. He must have just had a nosebleed that bled down his throat instead of out his nose, right?

He was relieved when he saw his mother return with the small bottle and a tablespoon.

"One tablespoon, follow by 8 ounces of water," Keiko told him as she opened up the bottle for him. Maybe it was her motherly instinct, but she poured the liquid into the measuring spoon and when Sam opened his mouth, inserted the spoon.

Sam made a face and the vile tasting stuff as he swallowed then refilled his cup with water, his hands not shaking quite as badly. He drank down two cups, figuring that was about eight ounces.

He looked at his parents. "I'm okay. I'll be okay. You can go back to bed."

Jim gave a soft huff at the same time as Keiko. "Like we'll be able to sleep when you start tossing your dinner in a half hour," Jim said. "Come on, let's put you in Dean's room. I'll get a bucket in case you start throwing up without warning. Keiko, help Sam, I'll help Dean.

Keiko set the bottle aside and put her arm around Sam's waist and guided him into Dean's room.

"Did he tell you anything?" Jim asked Dean, offering him an arm so Dean wouldn't have to put his full weight on his swollen ankle.

* * *

Dean reluctantly dropped his hand and moved away from the younger boy when Keiko moved to help Sam. He felt so damned useless right now. He wished he could be the one to help him, but Dean knew he was no use to the other boy right now. Now that the adrenaline rush from earlier had begun to wear off he could barely put any weight on his ankle at all without risking it buckling beneath him. As much as he might want to refuse the offer of help Dean knew he probably wouldn’t be able to get back to the bed on his own.

So he took Jim’s arm without complaint and started the long hobble back towards what had now been dubbed ‘his’ room. At least until morning. Dean was honestly surprised that Sam’s parents were letting the younger boy stay downstairs with him. He’d been certain they would make him go upstairs to his own room, either so Sam could be closer to them or further away from Dean.

Jim’s question didn’t really surprise Dean. The man didn’t seem like the kind to easily believe bullshit. So Dean wasn’t even going to try to lie to him.

“No. Not yet.” He replied. But Dean fully intended to get the truth from Sam before the night was over. 

* * *

"Please, if you find out, tell us. He hasn't had a dream this bad in a long time. At least, not that we know of. He tells us most things, but the nightmares he has, he isn't always very forthcoming about," Jim said quietly. "And I've talked with Keiko, calmed her down. You two seem good at pushing each other's buttons. If a friend's dad told me so say 'yes, no, thank you, and please' when I was your age, I'd have told them to bite me and fuck off. I'm going to ask it anyhow, when you're dealing with her, and compliment her cooking, or whatever you can bring yourself to do. Don't answer. Like I said, I get it. Fuck off and mind your own god-damned business is probably what you're thinking. But it's simple Dean. We need you to look after our boy and I'd like to minimize any more blow ups between you and Keiko. Just think about it.

"And think about where Sam would be safest. Chalmers or back at his old high school. Let me know what you think in the morning."

*

Keiko guided Sam back to Dean's room and turned on the light. Her eyes went immediately to the blood on the sheet the drops of blood on the carpet.

"Sam?" she asked quietly.

"Please, Mom, just…just let it go. I don't want to talk about it tonight," Sam said, seeing the blood as well. He knew that the bloodhound his mom was, she'd go back in the bathroom and find the t-shirt. "I can't talk about it tonight. Okay?"

Giving a frustrated sigh, Keiko didn't say anything, just helped Sam settle back onto the bed. He wanted to stay sitting up since he knew he'd be throwing up soon.

Sam grabbed his mom's wrist. "Mom, I know you don't like to do it, but would you make some of that special tea for Dean? The stuff that makes you heal faster? I know what you say, that what's meant to be is meant to be, but I need Dean better, to protect me when you and Dad are working. And to teach me to protect myself."

"Sam, he's not family. It calls on the ancestors. I don't know that it'll work."

"Please? Try?" Sam begged.

"I doubt he'll accept it. It's magic," she said.

"So's the dream bag. So's the salt and the tattoos," Sam countered. "Please?"

Keiko ran a hand over her son's damp hair and cupped the side of his face then leaned in and kissed his cheek. "The things I do for you. All right. But only if you tell me what happened. Everything. Come tomorrow morning."

Sam nodded, even as he paled a little. He prayed when he threw up there wouldn't be any blood in it. Then it would be easier. A lot easier. "O-Okay."

"I'll go get it started, but you're going to have to convince him to drink it."

"I will," Sam promised.

She gave a nod and walked out of the room and headed for the kitchen.

* * *

"Please, if you find out, tell us. He hasn't had a dream this bad in a long time. At least, not that we know of. He tells us most things, but the nightmares he has, he isn't always very forthcoming about," Jim said quietly. "And I've talked with Keiko, calmed her down. You two seem good at pushing each other's buttons. If a friend's dad told me so say 'yes, no, thank you, and please' when I was your age, I'd have told them to bite me and fuck off. I'm going to ask it anyhow, when you're dealing with her, and compliment her cooking, or whatever you can bring yourself to do. Don't answer. Like I said, I get it. Fuck off and mind your own god-damned business is probably what you're thinking. But it's simple Dean. We need you to look after our boy and I'd like to minimize any more blow ups between you and Keiko. Just think about it.

"And think about where Sam would be safest. Chalmers or back at his old high school. Let me know what you think in the morning."

*

Keiko guided Sam back to Dean's room and turned on the light. Her eyes went immediately to the blood on the sheet the drops of blood on the carpet.

"Sam?" she asked quietly.

"Please, Mom, just…just let it go. I don't want to talk about it tonight," Sam said, seeing the blood as well. He knew that the bloodhound his mom was, she'd go back in the bathroom and find the t-shirt. "I can't talk about it tonight. Okay?"

Giving a frustrated sigh, Keiko didn't say anything, just helped Sam settle back onto the bed. He wanted to stay sitting up since he knew he'd be throwing up soon.

Sam grabbed his mom's wrist. "Mom, I know you don't like to do it, but would you make some of that special tea for Dean? The stuff that makes you heal faster? I know what you say, that what's meant to be is meant to be, but I need Dean better, to protect me when you and Dad are working. And to teach me to protect myself."

"Sam, he's not family. It calls on the ancestors. I don't know that it'll work."

"Please? Try?" Sam begged.

"I doubt he'll accept it. It's magic," she said.

"So's the dream bag. So's the salt and the tattoos," Sam countered. "Please?"

Keiko ran a hand over her son's damp hair and cupped the side of his face then leaned in and kissed his cheek. "The things I do for you. All right. But only if you tell me what happened. Everything. Come tomorrow morning."

Sam nodded, even as he paled a little. He prayed when he threw up there wouldn't be any blood in it. Then it would be easier. A lot easier. "O-Okay."

"I'll go get it started, but you're going to have to convince him to drink it."

"I will," Sam promised.

She gave a nod and walked out of the room and headed for the kitchen.

* * *

When Sam’s father asked him to tell them if/when the younger boy told him the truth about what had happened Dean nodded. Though whether or not he would he would have to decide later. After Sam told him. If Dean thought Sam’s parents needed to know, then he’d tell them. If not, he’d keep Sam’s secret. Dean wasn’t going to betray his lover without a good reason, and if Sam didn’t want his parents to know then Dean would respect that. To a point.

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised when Jim went on to ask him to be more ‘polite’ to his wife. Dean had to practically bit his tongue not to scowl and say exactly what he thought of that. Was it too much to ask? Maybe not. But he was getting really fucking tired of everyone telling him what to do.

So he’d insulted her. Whatever. She hit him and told him to stay away from her family. Fine. Wouldn’t be the first time. Was he going to stay away from Sam? No. He didn’t need her god-damned permission to protect Sam. But that didn’t mean he was coming back here either. After tomorrow morning he wasn’t planning on ‘dealing with her’ whatsoever. She left him the fuck alone, he’d leave her the fuck alone, and everyone was happy.

As far as where Sam would be safest… that was a sticky issue. He honestly didn’t know. If it was just Eric and those pricks at Chalmers they had to worry about he’d say send Sam back to his old school in a heartbeat. But with demons thrown into the mix… There were a lot more people at a public high school. A lot more to watch, and Dean didn’t know any of them. Plus, he wouldn’t have the kind of pull at a public high school that he had at Chalmers now. At least if he and Bobby went to the principle at Chalmers and told him to watch out for demons he wouldn’t look at the two hunters like they were batshit crazy.

Damn he wished he could talk to Bobby. Bobby always seemed to know what to do. Dean had never really felt homesick before, never had a home before Bobby had taken him in.

Dean dropped the older man’s arm as soon as they reached the living room. Hobbling the rest of the way to the bed on his own, and he sat down on the edge. Grabbing his ankle brace and strapping it on so he would at least be able to move easier if he needed to. He didn’t think he would be getting anymore sleep anytime soon anyway. 

* * *

Sam gave Dean a weak smile when he came in. His father picked up the bucket Dean had been soaking his ankle in, the water long cold, and took it to dump it. He returned quickly and placed it next to Sam.

"Want me to get you something to watch?" Jim asked.

"No, just put in Star Wars," Sam said.

"We'll be in the kitchen, playing cards or something. Shout when you start to feel sick, okay?" He gently ruffled Sam's hair then started the movie for them.

Once his father left, he scooted closer to Dean and leaned up against him, really glad he was there. He thought back to what the yellow eyed man said about Dean and wondered what the demon had meant. Everything the demon said was a puzzle. A frightening, terrifying puzzle and he didn't want to discover what picture it made because he was afraid, really afraid the demon wanted him to do bad and evil things, was going to threaten those he loved, give him no choice. What would he do if the demon did that?

"I asked Mom to make you some of her special tea. It helps you heal faster. Tastes pretty decent too. She doesn't like to make it, fate and all that stuff, but I asked her to because I need you better so you can protect me, and she agreed. Will you please drink it when she brings it in?"

* * *

Dean sighed softly in annoyance when Sam’s father informed them he and Sam’s mother would be in the other room. No wonder they hadn’t taken Sam upstairs with them. He’d hoped to have privacy with the younger boy but apparently they weren’t going to be given much of that.

He was a little surprised then when Sam scooted closer to him and leaned against him. But the threat of getting caught didn’t stop him from wrapping an arm around Sam’s bare shoulders. Dean was more worried about Sam right now than about getting caught in a compromising position.

“It’s going to be all right.” Dean reassured, rubbing Sam’s arm and pressing a soft kiss to the younger boy’s hair.

Then he had another reason to be surprised when Sam asked him to drink the ‘special’ tea his mother was apparently making for him. First dream bags and now magic tea. What next? But he could see Sam’s point. He needed to be able to protect Sam. He was pretty much useless as he was right now and they didn’t have time to wait for him to be back on his feet.

“All right. I’ll drink it.” Dean agreed.

* * *

The gentle way Dean kissed his hair and his soft reassurances made Sam relax a little. It was a lie. He knew it was a lie, but he wanted to believe it so badly, he clung to it like a lifeline. Dean agreeing to drink the tea bolstered him a little bit more.

"It isn't like poof, you're better, but you'll heal up like two or three times as fast," Sam said, managing to dredge up a smile for Dean when Dean agreed. He really figured Dean would tell him 'no-way-in-hell.' He leaned a little more into Dean. "Thanks."

Sam turned his attention to the movie but wasn't really seeing it. He found himself chewing on his lip and thinking about the dream. He imagined he saw yellow eyes in Darth Vader's mask and buried his face against Dean's chest, his breath catching. Stupid. He was being stupid. Vader wasn't the yellow-eyed man. Wasn't Azazel. Vader wasn't even real. But demons weren't supposed to be real either, not in the sane world he lived in just a few short weeks ago.

"I wonder if I can make a light saber that'll kill demons," Sam mumbled. "With the right sigils, it's got to be possible, right? You do the blasters and I'll do the light sabers. You can be the hero Dean Solo with his trusty Millennium Impala. And I'll be the Jedi Knight, Sam Skywalker…who has the blood of a demon like Vader running through his veins…yeah. That all makes sense, doesn't it?"

Sam felt the hot tears sliding down his cheeks before he even realized he was crying.

* * *

Sam seemed relieved when Dean agreed to drink the tea, relaxing a little more against him, and he decided that was reason enough to drink it. Even if it was magic and he and Sam’s mother didn’t really like each other at the moment.

Though Dean did have to wonder if Sam knew about the ‘dream bag’ and the tea, why he never really questioned his mother more about her ‘stories’. Surely Sam had to suspect that these things weren’t exactly _normal_. Especially the tea. But Dean supposed anything could seem normal if you grew up with it.

Dean wanted to talk to Sam more, ask him about the dream, but maybe he should wait until after Sam’s mother had come and gone. Sam would probably be getting sick soon too and he really didn’t want to add to the younger boy’s distress.

But then Sam started talking about demon killing lightsabers and stuff and maybe Sam was giving him an opening? Dean wished he knew how to make a weapon to kill demons. He knew how to hurt them, send them back to hell, but not how to really kill them. Dean didn’t want to just send the demon that had killed his parents and was after Sam to hell. He wanted it dead. For vengeance, yes, but more to protect Sam. He wanted to give Sam that peace of mind. To know he would be safe.

Though Sam’s mother did mention that the bow could kill demons, and some of the other samurai weapons their family owned. So it had to be possible to make them. Maybe he and Bobby could try. If only to give Sam a weapon with more punch than holy water or salt.

Sam was still talking though, not making much sense, but Dean could feel the wetness against his chest from the other boy’s tears and when Sam mentioned _demon blood_ the older boy startled a bit. What the fuck?!

“Sam…” Dean looked down at Sam and lifted the younger boy’s chin to meet his eyes. “What do you mean? Talk to me, please. I know it wasn’t just a dream. Tell me what you saw. Please.” Dean whispered, wiping away Sam’s tears with the pad of his thumb. 

* * *

Sam didn't want to talk about the nightmare. He just wanted to pretend it hadn't happened. What if it were true though? What was he going to do if he threw up blood? Would there still be blood in his stomach if he had swallowed any?

He stared into Dean's concerned eyes. Dean had told him about his nightmare when he asked. Since he told his mother he would tell her, he might as well get a practice run on it, trying to hold himself together. He pulled his chin away from Dean's fingers and laid his head on Dean's chest.

"You and me were together, making out then you were pulled away from me and it was dark. Then I heard _him._ He said it was almost time for my next lesson, that I was going to lose everything. That you couldn't stop it and Mom and Dad couldn't, and he'd be all I'd have and that I'd do anything he wanted."

Sam cuddled up closer to Dean and his voice, already soft, turned into a whisper. "He said I had demon blood in me. His blood. I told him I was yours but he said I wasn't, that I was his. Then…then…then I couldn't move and he…and he cut his wrist and made my mouth open and…put blood in it. Said if I stopped fighting him, no one would get hurt. That the car wouldn't miss you next time. I was finally able to move and started fighting him, screaming at him, but choking on his blood at the same time. I know I swallowed a bunch of his blood. I know I did. And then when I woke up and tried to say something to you and all that blood…all that blood was in my mouth. It's demon blood Dean. I'm part demon. I'm some freak, some supernatural freak with demon blood and he says I'm going to have powers to do stuff soon."

After a few heaved breaths Sam continued. "That's…that's why I wanted to throw up. To see…to see if I swallowed its blood. I don't want to be…a demon."

The tears came again and he began sobbing, fearing that's exactly what was going to happen to him.

* * *

For a while Dean was sure Sam wouldn’t answer him, and the expression on the younger boy’s face made Dean hate himself for asking. But… he needed to know. He couldn’t protect Sam if he didn’t know what was going on. When Sam turned away from him he figured that was the end of the conversation, at least for now, and he was almost willing to let it go. For now. But then Sam was pressing his face into his chest and speaking so softly Dean could barely make out the words. Dean almost wished he couldn’t.

The demon had definitely been talking to Sam. Just like it had spoken to Dean. He was sure more than ever that dream he’d had earlier wasn’t any normal dream. Dean began to wonder if any of his dreams in the past had been ‘normal’. He’d always chalked them up to his own bad memories and fears but what if they weren’t? What if Sam’s weren’t? Maybe the demon was just getting… bolder… now. No longer caring to be subtle.

Whatever those reasons were… they couldn’t be good. Not for Sam. Not for him. Not for any of them. They needed help. They needed Bobby back here now damn it.

Dean hugged Sam tighter as the younger boy went on, talking about… blood… the demon’s blood… inside Sam… and Dean felt his own blood run cold. It couldn’t be true. There was no way… no fucking way!

But what if it was true? The blood he’d seen pour from Sam’s mouth when he woke up… Fuck!

Dean felt frozen, speechless, but Sam’s heartbroken sobs against his chest pulled him out of his momentary paralysis pretty damned quick. He pushed Sam away from him slightly, but only so he could get the other boy to look at him. He cupped Sam’s cheeks with his hands and wiped at his tears with his fingers. Making sure Sam’s eyes met his so his lover would know just how serious he was.

“You are _not_ a fucking demon, Sam! You’re not a freak! You’re not going to become one. No one is going to get hurt. I’m not going to let that happen. The demon is just fucking with your head. You gotta be strong. Don’t give it what it wants. We’re going to find out what it wants. We’re going to stop it. And we’re going to kill that motherfucker. You’re mine. You remember that, no matter what else happens.” Dean said, then he pulled Sam close again and kissed the younger boy deeply. 

* * *

What if Dean didn't even want to touch him after those admissions? What if Dean agreed and thought he was a demon or half-demon or freak? What if his boyfriend recoiled or horror and never wanted to see him again?

Dean didn't say anything, didn't move, didn't comfort, nothing, after Sam finished telling him what the demon said, what Sam feared. Then Dean was pushing him away and Sam felt his heart break a little. The demon was right. He wasn't Dean's. Dean didn't want him any more. Not that Sam blamed him, not at all.

But then Dean was wiping away his tears and telling him he wasn't a freak, that it was all going to be okay, that Dean was going to stay with him no matter what. That he _was_ Dean's.

It took Sam a moment to respond, shocked and surprised that Dean would want to kiss him after all those admissions. Then it was like he woke up and he kissed Dean back, hungry for the acceptance and love Dean was offering. He was still Dean's! His heart soared as Dean's declarations ran in little circles in his mind. Yes they were going to find that bastard demon and kill it and then everyone he cared about would be safe, and he'd never have those horrible dreams again, and he wouldn't feel like he was being watched all the time. He wouldn't have to worry about his family, or friends, or boyfriend. His life would become normal again. He could finish school, then go to college, have a normal life, and be…gay.

But being in Dean's arms was all he wanted right now anyhow, so who the hell gave a shit? If he was, he was. Accept the possibility and move on, because he had to face it. He wanted to be with Dean. And he would be. No matter what.

"I'm yours," he whispered, when Dean finally let him take a breath. "Always." 

* * *

“Damn right.” Dean replied before kissing Sam again. Softer and not lingering despite how he might have wanted to, but he didn’t know how long that tea stuff took to make and Sam's mom could walk in on them at any second. Plus… he really didn’t want to be kissing Sam whenever the other boy started to hurl.

Dean hugged Sam to him then. One hand resting low on the younger boy’s back while his other found its way into Sam’s hair, petting through the soft strands slowly. He wasn’t going to let Sam go, damn it. He wasn’t going to let anything take Sam away from him. Not some mother fucking demon. Not Eric. Not even Sam’s parents.

“I love you.” Dean whispered softly, pressing his lips to Sam’s forehead.

He’d meant every word he’d said to Sam. They were going to find out what the demon wanted. As soon as Bobby got back they were going into full research mode and they were going to find the answer. Dean was going to protect Sam, and his family, even if he had to camp out in his car outside Sam’s house every night. He was going to kill that demon. He didn’t know how yet, but he was going to find a way. Not just send it to hell, but finish the bastard off for good. He wasn’t going to let Sam down. 

* * *

Sam's breath sort of caught in his chest when Dean told him he loved him. His stomach did flip-flops and his heart practically stuttered to a stop. How could Dean…but did it matter? It seemed kind of scary, those three words. Did Sam love Dean? He was only fifteen, for God's sake. He didn't know what love was. So why did it feel like he did belong to Dean? And Dean to him? Like they were meant to be together.

Still, Sam didn't know how to respond. Course he had just told Dean he was his, always. That was like saying he loved Dean, wasn't it? If he'd really meant it, then that's why did telling Dean the same thing kind of scare him? They hadn't done more than make out. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life with Dean?

Sam gave a soft exhale. He was way over-thinking this. Right here, right now, that's all that mattered. Right here and right now, he loved Dean. He wanted to be with him. He wanted Dean to hold him and tell him he wasn't some demon-child. He wasn't some freak.

"Me too," he whispered back. They'd find a way to make it work. He swore to himself they would. Things could change, but when they did, he and Dean would deal with it then. 

* * *

Dean almost didn’t realize what he’d said until he heard Sam’s breath catch, felt the younger boy stiffen a little in his arms, and felt his own heart plummet somewhere around the center of the earth. What the hell had he been thinking? Telling Sam that he… loved him. He’d never said that to anyone before. Ever. He hadn’t really been thinking. It just slipped out. Had he meant it?

Yes… he’d meant it. He loved Sam. He cared about the younger boy more than he’d ever cared about anyone. He’d do anything for Sam. Anything to keep him safe. Anything to make him happy… but what did that matter?

Dean knew his own track record better than anyone. He was bad news. Damaged goods. Sooner or later everyone eventually got tired of him and lost interest and kicked him to the curb. Even Bobby, who had put up with his shit longer than anyone else had, Dean still expected the older man to one day tell him to get out and never come back. Why should Sam be any different?

Yeah, Sam needed him right now. First because of Eric, then because of the demon, but after all that? Sam wouldn’t want him around, not in the long term. Sam was only fifteen for crying out loud. He’d never even been interested in guys before him. It was probably all just hormones, mixed in with life and death scenarios. The younger boy would eventually grow tired of him, probably find some nice girl, someone who he deserved, and that would be it.

Even though Dean smiled a little at Sam’s whispered ‘me too’ it didn’t really reach his eyes. Dean knew Sam was just being nice. The younger boy was too kind for his own good sometimes. Sam didn’t really love him… and that was ok. It didn’t change anything on Dean’s end. One day Sam would leave him and Dean would let him go, but for now he was going to be there however Sam needed him.

“If you puke on me though, I take it back.” Dean joked, in an attempt to ease the tension a little. 

* * *

A smile curved Sam's lips. "No take backs, not on that," Sam said. "You're stuck with me now." Sam felt his stomach begin to churn. "Uh, bathroom," Sam said and pulled himself free of Dean's arms and dashed toward the bathroom. He barely made it before he began throwing up.

There was blood…but only a very small amount. Relief swelled in him even as the next wave of gut wrenching heaving hit him. He heaved and flushed, heaved and flushed, until finally he had nothing to throw up, but still he continued to retch, dry heaves shaking him. He felt the tender hand on his back rubbing small circles as his mother crooned soothing words to him.

When finally felt like he was puked out and his dry heaves had finally subsided, he blew his nose and looked at his mom. "I'm okay…I think."

"Good. Let's get you in the shower, rinse away your nightmares and sweat, and see if you have any follow up dry heaves. Then we'll put you to bed."

Sam nodded. "Did you get the tea made for Dean?" His voice was rough from all the throwing up.

"Yes, and once you're in the shower I'll give it to him. You father will wait outside the door to the bathroom so you just call if you need help, okay honey?"

Sam felt absolutely exhausted but gave a nod. He let his mom guide him out to where his father and Dean stood.

"I'm okay," he told them both. "Gonna shower, then be back down."

As Sam's father helped him towards the stairs, Keiko returned to the bathroom, spraying some air freshener and giving the toilet a quick scrub. She picked up Sam's bloody t-shirt and folded it, then washed her hands.

"Dean, you get settled and I'll bring you in the tea. Do you like cinnamon? Or would you prefer a strong black tea flavor to it?"

* * *

Seeing Sam smile at his comment, and his insistence that Dean was stuck with him now, Dean couldn’t help but smile in return. He didn’t get a chance to respond though because Sam was suddenly pulling out of his arms and running to the bathroom. Dean missed the younger boy’s warmth immediately, but it was better than getting puked on, he guessed.

Dean got up and followed Sam, moving a little easier now that he had his ankle brace back on. Hearing the younger boy retching from all the way in the living room made Dean wince in sympathy.

He wanted to go to Sam, hold his hair back, rub his back, whatever good boyfriends did. But Sam’s mother had beat him to it and was already in the bathroom with him. So Dean reluctantly waited out in the hallway since his presence would probably be unwelcome.

Dean wasn’t timing it or anything, but it seemed like Sam threw up for a good ten minutes. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard anyone throw up that much. Sam looked like Dean expected he would when he finally emerged from the bathroom. Sam looked like hell. Again he wanted to go to Sam, to help him, but again he couldn’t. Sam’s parents were doing a fine enough job, and he wasn’t needed, at all.

So instead he just stood there, feeling incredibly useless, as he watched Sam and his father walk slowly up the stairs. Dean’s eyes followed the younger boy and only reluctantly looked away when Sam’s mother addressed him. Dismissing him was more like it.

“Plain is fine… thanks…” Dean answered and turned away, heading back to ‘his’ room. 

* * *

Sam left his father out in the hall as he went in and started the shower. He found himself retching into the toiled again, but it was just dry heaves.

"Dad, remind me never to ask for ipecac again," Sam said to his father. He heard his father's soft laugh.

"And she only gave you a small part of the dose. It should pass soon, Son,"

"Would you get me some clean clothes?"

Sam checked the temperature of the water and then stripped. He quickly stepped in and started lathering his rag, wishing Dean was there with him. He suddenly felt dirty in a way he hadn't before. Like the demon had touched him. In a way, he supposed it had.

After scrubbing his skin clean of imaginary blood and filth, and real sweat, he washed and rinsed his hair and then stepped out. His father already had his clothes waiting on him. The nausea from the ipecac seemed to finally be fading. He was definitely feeling a lot better, and he was certain the shower had helped.

Sam opened the door, letting the steam out into the hall. "I'm okay now Dad. I'm…I'm going to sleep downstairs with Dean. I don't want to sleep in my room, alone."

His father patted him on the back. "That's fine, kiddo. Just don't throw up on Dean. I don't think he can take much more abuse from this family.

*

Keiko brought the tea in for Dean, picked up the blood-spattered blanket, and clean up the couple spots of blood she found on the carpet, then sprinkled them with holy water and when she saw they hissed from the holy water, put salt on top of the wet spots. Her brow creased with concern. Sam told her he would tell her everything in the morning and so she would wait.

When Sam returned downstairs to join Dean, she got them both a fresh blanket and didn't say anything to Sam other than, "Only sweet dreams now, Sammy. Call us if you need us."

After she planted a kiss on his cheek, she looked at Dean, conveying her worry for her son in that quick glance, and then left. Jim called in a "Good Night you two. Try to get some sleep."

Sam didn't turn off the light but instead got into bed beside Dean and quickly scooted over to him. He saw that Dean had drank down a full coffee mug of tea. "Mom give you the tenth degree?"

* * *

When Dean returned to the den that had become his bedroom for the last couple of days, he removed the ankle brace, hoping he wouldn’t need it for the rest of the night, and got settled on the couch bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Sam had told him. About the demon and… the blood. He’d already made up his mind he was going to tell Sam’s parents, even if Sam wouldn’t, but he hadn’t quite figured out how yet.

It had to be just a dream, just the demon messing with Sam’s head, like he’d told the younger boy, right? It couldn’t be… real. But then where had the blood, the blood he’d seen pour from Sam’s lips, come from? Dean wasn’t sure which idea was more disturbing, the idea that the dreams he and Sam were having were somehow _real_ or that the demon was somehow getting through the protections of the house in the first place to give them these dreams.

It wasn’t long before Sam’s mother came in with the promised tea. She didn’t say anything to him and Dean only muttered another thanks before he started drinking it while the woman worked tidying up the area. He hoped Sam was right and the stuff would help him heal faster. His wounded side and ankle throbbed painfully, reminding him just how useless he was right now.

Dean watched as Sam’s mom discovered some blood on the carpet and a chill ran down his spine when he watched her pour water… holy water… onto the drops, the way they sizzled and the faint stench of sulfur that accompanied it. Shit… the blood… it really was demon blood. Fuck…

Sam returned and Dean did his best not to look like he was freaking out, for Sam’s sake, but he was. The look on Keiko’s face had to mirror his own, but they were both putting up a brave front for Sam’s sake. When Sam scooted closer to him after his parents left, Dean didn’t hesitate putting his arms around the younger boy, holding him tightly.

“No, we didn’t talk.” He told Sam softly, shaking his head a little. 


End file.
